


It Rained That Evening

by lordkrisdemort



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Heavy Angst, M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 11:57:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 37,360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21270677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordkrisdemort/pseuds/lordkrisdemort
Summary: “My name is Wu Yifan, and I’m here to erase my memories of Zhang Yixing.”





	1. Prologue; Cirro

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt NR116
> 
> To you, readers, let’s take this one lightly. Remember to take this lightly when things seem heavy somewhere along the way.
> 
> To the prompter, this might have steered way too far from your expectations, and I’m so sorry for that. You're very welcome to roast me and even report me on Twitter; you can step on me and I'd thank you for it.
> 
> To my ever so loyal C, you made this possible. Your kind and encouraging words never failed to give me the strength and will to finish this story. The thought of not wanting to disappoint you really did the magic in pushing me through it all.
> 
> To my other C, I hope later when you feel much better, you can read this with a light heart.

_‘But isn’t a life based on seeking personal happiness by nature self-centered, even self-indulgent?’ _

_ ‘Happiness is not something ready-made. It comes from your own actions.’ _

_ ‘When you think everything is someone else’s fault, you will suffer a lot. When you realize that everything springs only from yourself, you will learn both peace and joy.’ _

_ ‘The highest happiness is when one reaches the stage of Liberation, at which there is no more suffering.’ _

_ ‘There is a Possibility of freedom from suffering. By removing the causes of suffering, it is possible to attain a state of Liberation, a state free from suffering.’ _

\- Dalai Lama, in ‘The Art of Happiness’ -

* * *

* * *

It rained that evening.

Maybe Yifan hadn’t noticed the rather gloomy skies outside the window, or droplets of water on the outer side of the glass. He didn’t have the time to notice everything that happened out there for the whole day due to the amount of tasks he had to deal with; working in the finance department of such a big company in South Korea often meant not being able to see the outside world during working hours. Thus, when he finally got off work by six, he was perplexed to find that it was raining heavily outside, and even the tiles of the outer lobby were wet.

And of course he had no umbrella with him.

“Great.” he huffed, feeling helpless. He needed to walk to the bus stop right then if he didn’t want to miss the next departure. He never liked the idea of making his spouse wait for him to have dinner, especially when he was the one who had promised he’d be home by seven. Which means, he had to run against the rain, and his spouse wouldn't like it either if he came home completely drenched and highly prone to fever. What a dilemmatic evening.

Standing right under the edge of the canopy, he stretched out a hand and let droplets of water fall on his palm. The temperature soothed the heat on his skin. If only he was not in such a tight situation, he would’ve had walked around under the rain and dragged his spouse along, probably chasing each other and slip off a few times.

Then, as he lowered his hand, a familiar figure came into the frame of his sight. Scuffed black Converse sneakers, tattered blue jeans, white tee beneath red-green checkered shirt. And as the cherry on top, a big and obnoxiously bright yellow umbrella. Yifan couldn’t even stop the wide grin from blooming across his face.

The familiar figure finally halted his steps, right in front of him. Umbrella casted aside, the noticeably shorter figure finally revealed his face, sheepish grin adorning his lips with two dimples on each cheek accompanying it. “Your savior is here.” delicate, melodious voice then followed, flowing from a lovely pair of plump lips.

Yifan took his sweet time - which approximately lasted for ten seconds - to down in the view in front of him. It always left him breathless, the encounter with the love of his life. When he noticed that his love was frowning, he finally alerted his lips to say something. “How did you know…?” _ that I needed saving? _

“It rained since, like, half an hour ago.” his love rolled his eyes. “And you never takes your umbrella with you, so.”

“Well, I didn’t expect it would rain today.” Yifan pouted his lips, taking the umbrella from his love when it was handed to him.

“The monsoon season has started, _ honey _.” his love sighed.

Yifan chuckled sheepishly. He wrapped his left arm around his love’s shoulder and pulled him closer to him. “Shall we go, then? I’m starving.”

“Well, good for you,” his love looked up at him, an arm wrapping around his torso, “because we’re having hotpot.”

“Hotpot?” Yifan repeated, already tasting the broth on his tongue. His tummy screamed in agony upon the mention of the dish. “Then we have to hurry!”

His love laughed wholeheartedly. Be damned the ringing of church bells. The angels should be ashamed, for their voices would never be as beautiful as the cheery, crystal-like sound of his love’s laughter. “Why is it so easy to excite you, hm?” his love teased him afterwards.

Yifan just locked his gaze with his love’s. Why? Why? _ Why? I can’t possibly answer that question, not when it was the answer itself that asked it. _ He stole a quick, gentle peck on the forehead from his love. “Let’s go!”

Their shoes were wet. The hem of their pants were soaked. One side of their shoulders were drenched. But it was warm, very warm, because they were in each other’s arms, heart swollen by the heat of love.

Yifan loved rainy days, especially with the love of his life in them.

===

Enouement.

The word for the bitter-sweetness of arriving at the future, seeing how things turned out, but not being able to tell your past self.

Of course, the situation is a given. That’s the result of the linearity of time. And even if he could actually travel back in time and meet himself, the one who was _ that _ happy, what would he actually tell him? Would he even have the heart to say anything?

He’s sitting on a sleek looking black chair, in front of a black glass desk that gives off the same vibe. Everything in the room is making him self conscious, forcing him to understand that he’s facing something eerie; something that he also had asked for himself.

After recalling all of those scenes, he can only sit on this chair and wonder,

_ what the hell went wrong? _

“We’re all ready for you, Mr. Wu.”

By the voice of the familiar stranger, he’s forcefully pulled away from his reverie. A man stands behind the desk, still wearing the gentle and friendly smile he saw since the moment he stepped into the room today. He still can’t remember the man’s first name. _ What is it? _ He glances at the metal name tag on the pocket of the man’s white coat. _ Dr. Doh Kyungsoo _.

The Doctor is still looking at him with his poised face. “I assume you’ve found your favorite memory.” he comments. “And I can tell that it’s a heavily rooted one. We might have to pay much more attention to it.”

A small wave of embarrassment hits him, making him drop his gaze onto his lap for a moment. “Please take care of me.” he murmurs.

“We’ll do our best.” Dr. Doh’s voice is soothing, like the cool air of summer morning. Or like the calm that tricks him to be unguarded before the storm comes barging in. “So, shall we start with the documentation?”

When he looks up again, Dr. Doh is already sitting on his own grand seat again. On the surface of the desk between them rests a digital voice recorder. He gulps down the imaginary lump in his throat unknowingly. He’s really doing this; he’s actually doing this, and now he wants to run away, just like what he did in the two sessions before this.

Nonetheless, he nods. He’s not going to run away today.

“Okay.” Dr. Doh mimics the nod. “Once the recording starts, you’re required to say your name, state the thing you’re about to do here, and explain the reason why you chose to do it.”

He nods again, like a broken puppet. He watches as the Doctor presses the tiny red button under the small square LED screen of the recorder. “You may begin.”

Exhaling heavily, he locks his gaze on the recorder.

“My name is Wu Yifan,” his voice croaks a little, “and I’m here to go under the Memorasure Procedure,

in order to erase my memories of Zhang Yixing.”

He pauses, then looks up at the Doctor, who then encourages him to keep going.

“The…” he trails off, “the reason why I chose to do this, is because…”

* * *


	2. Alto

What is worse than coming home to an empty house?

Coming home to an empty house that was once filled with the warmth and sound of laughter of your beloved.

Even worse if the said beloved is never coming back to make the house alive again.

But it’s one of the consequences Yifan had stepped up to deal with since long ago. It has only been months, technically, but it felt like an eternity for him. How did he even manage to survive for six months like this? He doesn’t even feel like living anymore. Has he died in his sleep and woken up in purgatory?

He tries his best to take his shoes off without using hands. When he succeeds, he drags his feet from the entryway across the kitchen and dining area, slowly to the living space, and throws himself onto the couch. He didn’t even do any heavy labor today but he feels so painfully tired; it must be the head, for it’s always the head. He stares emptily at the TV’s black screen, making out a blurred reflection of himself on it. The brown envelope he has been hugging ever since he stepped out of Dr. Doh’s office room is still secured in his arms. It must be the weight of the envelope that has been tiring him.

The dryness in his throat finally kicks in. He would’ve loved to stay frozen on his comfortable couch and remain there until he gets fossilized, but he needs to keep his body hydrated and survive today if he wants to be able to undergo the procedure tomorrow. So he pushes himself up from the cushioned furniture and turns around to circle it. The living space is located at the corner of the spacious, divider-less part of his condominium, with the TV being against the wall which makes it accessible from every angle of the room; he remembers designing the room in that manner so he and Yixing could eat on the dining table while watching shows.

Ah, right. Everything he did in the condo, in almost every cranny and nook, had Yixing in consideration. The color of the tiles in the kitchen area was picked by Yixing. The mixed colors of the chairs around the dining table were Yixing’s favorites. Yifan took the small void hidden behind the wall of the entryway to be his workspace so Yixing could have the empty bedroom next to their master bedroom to be his mini music studio without feeling bad about it. They only had pastel colored bed sheets because Yixing didn’t really like dark colors; although Yixing loved it whenever Yifan wore navy. Heck, the very first reason they chose this apartment unit, at this particular side of the building, was because Yixing loved the amount of sunlight the room got due to the majority of the walls being windows and glass - and the diagonal wall of the dining area.

Isn’t it harrowing? How Yifan is living in a place that he filled with everything Yixing liked, but without Yixing in it.

Zhang Yixing. The love of his life. The owner of the brightest, sweetest, prettiest smile he had ever seen. Of the most beautiful voice he had ever heard. Of the most beautiful face he had ever laid eyes upon. The brightest, kindest, most empathetic soul he had ever known. The best cook, whose dishes always helped him get through his homesickness. The friendliest person he had ever encountered, who had lots of friends adoring him.

Zhang Yixing. His husband for thirteen months and twenty one days. Now ex husband, by mutual agreement six months ago, legalized by law precisely five months and two weeks after.

Zhang Yixing. The one who had broken his heart in an unimaginable way.

Zhang Yixing. The one who walked away from him.

Maybe it’s because he’s going to have no memories of Yixing the day after tomorrow that Yifan lets himself remember Yixing as much as he can today. That, or he’s got to be true to himself that he never really forgot Yixing in any way. There’s no forgetting someone you had loved - still love - more than you ever loved yourself and anyone. This reason is exactly why he had to get professional help to do it. To erase everything he knows about a Zhang Yixing. You can’t remember and don’t have to forget who you don’t know, after all.

It’s ridiculous, how six months passed by just like that, now that he thinks of it, when he used to beg the Heavens to make time run faster because he couldn’t take the pain anymore. He remembers being angry towards everything that happened in his life, resentful towards the way Yixing broke him, and hateful towards himself, but now all he feels is just sadness. Pure sadness. And the desperation of getting rid of Zhang Yixing from his head.

This is the best way out. The most fitting conclusion. The wisest closure. No one would be harmed by this decision, for it’s for the best for everybody who holds a stake. He’ll be free from the haunting pain and sorrow. Yixing would be free from guilt, if he has any. His parents would be beyond glad; they were always bitter about his marriage with Yixing after all, despite not having any single right to be. His friends have been supportive, saying that they only wanted the best for him. After the painfully long six months, Yifan finally found the perfect way out of the darkness. Who even came up with such a brilliant solution like that?

The thirst reminds him that he really should get some water. He finally lets go of the brown envelope in his arms, putting it on the coffee table in front of the couch. In the envelope are papers of the Memorasure Program. He’ll have to reread some of the clauses, for safety measures. He was properly warned about the possible side effects that could affect his physical and mental health. After that, they interviewed him and performed basic medical tests to make sure that he was in good condition to undergo the following procedures. Tomorrow, they would ‘map’ his memories of Yixing and select several major points from them, which they said should be the roots of other memories; if they remove the roots, the branches would follow. Once they finish mapping the memories, they could finally proceed with erasing them carefully and systematically.

However, before Yifan left the facility, they required something from him, something that is in the steps of the procedure.

‘ _ You would need to gather every belonging you have that reminds you of Zhang Yixing. Could be yours, could be his that he left at your place. Just things that are around you and remind you of him _ .’

They asked him to put them in a box and bring it to the facility. Knowing the items that connect him with Yixing would be helpful for the erasure process. Besides, inanimate objects could trigger memories as well. Repeated encounter with the objects could jeopardize the result. Yifan was awed with their meticulousness. At first, he couldn’t stop thinking about how cheesy it sounded and looked in his head. Throwing away your ex lover’s stuff after a nasty break up? Sounds like a scene from a soap drama.

But now he can actually see what they were talking about. He gets reminded of Yixing  _ just _ by observing his own condominium. Since he can't possibly throw out an entire property, he’s moving out tomorrow instead - to his old studio apartment which he hadn’t used ever since he married Yixing. Back there, the furnitures are in dark colors, the wooden floor is dark brown, his bed sheets are mostly navy and gray. There should be no trace of Yixing.

Still stuck in his own silence, Yifan goes towards the dining table, pulls a chair out, and sits on it. Right next to him is the glass wall, where the orange light of the sunset starts to fill the room through.

He’s basking in the reality of it all. He’s really doing it.

He’s really going to forget Yixing completely.

And somehow, this time, he can ignore the little voices inside his head that have been trying to talk him out of it.

===

He woke up to the gloomy lighting of the bedroom. The temperature was cold enough to make him shiver when he realized the blanket had been lowered to his hip, exposing his thin tee covered upper body. The first thing his instinct told him to do, as usual, was to check the other side of the bed; where was his husband? He smiled softly at the sight of the unmade pillow. His beloved often woke up earlier than he would, which meant he had to beat it to be able to look at his beloved’s peaceful sleeping face.

Yanking the blanket away, Yifan began to search for his phone. Once he found it, he immediately turned it on; it was a Saturday, and it was around nine in the morning, which was usually the time when the overtimers back at the office would call him to ask about anything or even ask him to come to work to help them. Seeing there was no texts or notifications from the messenger apps on his phone, he sighed in relief and put the device back on the bedpost. He got off the bed and circled around it to get to the door. Time to find the love of his life.

And he found the very said person sitting on one of the chairs around the dining table, the nearest to the window. Legs folded on the chair, one arm wrapped around the limbs, while the other hand held a cup of something steaming. The lackluster color of the sunlight washed over his beloved’s face, and Yifan took his moment to cherish the sight.

“It’s been going on since midnight.” his beloved didn’t even turn to look at him. He must’ve heard the door being closed.

Even the slightly hoarse voice induced warmth into his chest. “Really?” Yifan mused, sauntering across the living area towards the dining. His beloved’s unruly bed hair would always be his favorite thing to start everyday with.

His beloved wiggled his eyebrows lazily while taking a sip of his drink; it was milk. “I ditched the recording session today.”

“For Baekhyun?” Yifan asked, eyes widening. “You mean...  _ the _ Baekhyun?”

Turning aside to look up at him, his beloved smirked. “Yeap. Nation’s Top Soloist Baekhyun.”

“How come?”

“Well, you see,” his beloved used his free hand to gesture at the window, technically at the scenery outside, “it’s such a perfect weather to stay in.”

“You ditched the recording session for this country’s top soloist just because the weather is perfect to stay in.” Yifan polished the statement.

His beloved’s smirk turned into a triumphant smile. “That prick Byun Baekhyun picked a Saturday, of all days, to record. He always does that. Can he just, like, get a life or something?”

“You’re aware that your largest sum of songwriting and composing royalty comes from him, right?”

“Considering how many weekends and midnights I’ve sacrificed for him, I should be having the upper hand on this matter.”

Yifan tittered as he enveloped his beloved’s head with his hand, gently and carefully resting the head against his abdomen. “But you adore him nonetheless.”

A sigh left his beloved’s lips. “He’s my very best friend.”

“Did you inform him you were ditching him today?”

“Yeah, through Instagram DM.”

“Savage.” Yifan hummed. “I haven’t gotten any calls from the office either. So? What should we do to celebrate this very empty and unproductive morning?”

He fought back a smile from breaking his face when his beloved nuzzled his head against the fabric of his tee. “What we usually do when we’re being very unproductive.”

They both looked at each other and grinned.

And five minutes later, they were out on the building’s park at the second floor of the building. Slippers off, drenched by the rain, laughter bubbling in their throats, they chased and ran away from each other. They had to swipe the bangs away from their faces every five seconds, but that didn’t stop them from running around the wet grass. At some point, Yifan slipped off and fell bottom first, and his beloved immediately came to the rescue -  _ not _ without very amused laugh. His bottom was hurting, but he couldn’t take his attention off his beloved’s bright face.

But then the laughter subsided, and his beloved joined him on the grass, sitting face to face with him. “How do you do this?” his beloved then asked.

Yifan was mildly confused. “Do what?”

“Love me.”

To that, Yifan couldn't formulate any immediate response.

“You get drenched with me in the rain. You stayed home when I asked you to. You cooked for me in times I couldn’t do it and even when I was able to. You brought me food at midnight when I had to stay back in the studio at the headquarters and even brought snacks for my team and the singer I was working with. You stole a day and flew all the way to Changsha when it was my parents’ memorial day even when you were very occupied with work, even when you clearly told me that you’d never set foot in China again ever since things fell apart between you and your parents. You never even watched your own favorite TV show ever since we started living together, you always watched what I picked. You always listened to what I said, always do your best to give me what I want.

You didn’t stop loving me even when I told you I was not capable of loving you back. You never stopped loving me even when you know yourself that I haven’t been loving you as much as you love me. You took me in, even when I told you I could manage by myself, because somehow you saw through me, somehow you knew I couldn't. You don’t tell me often, that you love me, but it all shows. It’s clear in front of my eyes.

You love me. How… how do you do that?”

The rain might have made it impossible for Yifan to tell if his beloved was crying or not, but he knew it all from how broken the voice was. If it was months ago, when their emotions were still all over the place, Yifan would’ve immediately pulled his beloved into his arms and started listing reasons why his beloved shouldn’t be asking him that. But in the moment, the first thing Yifan did was smile. Widely, warmly. His beloved always needed warmth, and he was always ready to give him just that, even more than the sun and fire could offer.

Then his hands reached for his beloved’s trembling ones. “Xing,” he called out gently, dearly, “let me ask you something.” He waited until he had his beloved’s attention. “Have you ever asked why you had to be born?”

His beloved stared at him for a moment. “Of course I have.”

“With the intention of getting any kind of actual answer to that?” Yifan raised an eyebrow.

“Well,” his beloved looked over the grass beneath them, “no… not really.”

“I mean, you couldn’t be demanding the literal answer to that, right? Like, why did your parents have to give birth to you? Why did it have to be you that they gave birth to? Why did it have to be that family? That country? You don’t expect to get answers for that.” Yifan sighed. “You just happened to be born. And I just happened to love you.”

His beloved looked up at him, a frown and dissatisfaction apparent on his face.

“Why did it have to be you? Why did it have to be that day? Why did it have to be there in front of the campus’s gate? I have no idea as well. I just… love you. That’s all I know.”

“I don’t…” his beloved scooted closer to him, “I don’t deserve you.”

It was his turn to frown. “And those instant noodles don’t deserve your precious tummy.”

“... what the hell?”

“ _ Exactly _ .” Yifan chuckled when his beloved’s face started to soften because of his humor. “Who even has the right to judge whether someone deserves someone else’s love or not? Love isn’t auditing, where you determine which audit opinion to give, because you can’t evaluate someone’s worth the way you assess a company’s financial report.”

There was a moment of silence, before his beloved started to burst into giggling fits. “Wu Yifan, did you just, did you  _ really _ just compare love to auditing?”

“But you get what I mean!” Yifan couldn’t help but mirror the grin on his beloved’s lips. “I just… love you. That’s it. And if you ever feel obligated to do something about it, all you have to do is -”

“To let you love me.” his beloved continued for him. “You told me that when you proposed to me.”

They let silence engulf them once more. Yifan raised a hand to caress the apple of his beloved’s left cheek with his knuckles. There was a soft smile resting on his beloved’s face, and Yifan felt it was just right to copy it and paste it onto his own. The rain was starting to subside.

“I’m trying.” his beloved whispered, loud enough for him to hear but subtle enough for it to be special between them. “I’m trying to love you the same, Yifan.”

Yifan nodded slowly, showing that he acknowledged it, and he was very thankful of it. “Be careful,” he leaned forward and placed his lips against his beloved’s ear, “you might fall really, really hard.”

His beloved giggled cheerily. Feeling triumphant, Yifan leaned back, only to find his beloved’s eyes gleaming, twinkling. “But you’ll catch me anyway.”

Warmth. His beloved always needed warmth, and he was always ready to give him just that, even more than the sun and fire could offer; but Yifan wished he could tell his beloved that he, too, received warmth from him.

“Damn right I will.”

===

All he sees is white.

It’s still the middle of February, and it has started to snow a few days ago. The park at the second floor of the condominium building is almost fully covered in white. Which is a very, very good thing for Yifan, for he wouldn’t be reminded of the times he spent there.

And yet, he’s still stoned onto the marbled floor of the building’s lounge. Eyes still fixated on the view outside the glass doors. Mind still refusing to make him turn around and walk away.

“Need some help with that?”

Thankfully, a familiar voice pulls him out of his trance. There’s the head of the building’s security team. A friendly looking man in his sixties. Mr. Yoon, if he’s not mistaken. His gaze then lowers over the rectangular box on his arms. It’s a little bit bigger than a shoe box, but isn’t big or heavy enough to make him struggle. “It’s okay. Thank you.”

“Yeah, I know. I just wanted to get your attention.” the old man chuckles. It only confuses Yifan. “You seemed so out of it. What’s eating you from the inside, boy?”

Yifan takes a moment to observe the apparent wrinkles on the man’s face. “Mr. Yoon,” he then speaks, “are you married?”

“With this face? Of course I am.” Mr. Yoon smiles sheepishly. “Two sons and a daughter. Seven grandchildren. My wife passed away two years ago, and I bet she’s glad up there that she doesn’t have to struggle so hard to keep my socks intact in pairs anymore.”

Finding the humour in it, Yifan chuckles. But the emptiness in his eyes returns. “Was she the only one for you?”

“Yes, boy. She was always the only one for me.” Mr. Yoon’s gaze on him looks a little bit detached, as if he was seeing something else in his eyes. “And I was always the only one for her.”

Yifan nodded slowly in acknowledgement. “I want that.”

“A family?”

He doesn’t say anything at first. He quietly turns around, facing the hall that would lead him to the elevator. This should be the last time he’d ever leave the building, for he’s never coming back here again.

“Being my only one’s only one.” he then murmurs, before he bows slightly at the man and makes his steps to the way out.

  
  
  


There are four other people in the waiting room. One young lady, one young man probably around his age, one old lady, and one child who looks like he’s not any older than ten.

The young lady has a huge cardboard box on her lap. It’s not even sealed; the contents are protruding past the folded lid. She’s facing the window near her seat, head not tilted all the way which allows Yifan to take a peek of the resigned, hollow look on her face. The young man next to her doesn’t have anything in his arms other than his phone, looking down on the device with a frown. Yifan can tell that he’s scrolling down something on the screen; probably pictures. Judging by the appearance, the young man must be a newcomer, on his way to his first session. Then there’s the old lady next to him, holding nothing but a small, black velvet box that looks worn out. His best guess is that it’s a wedding ring box. Yifan looks away when he notices the pain in her eyes.

He decides to sit on the row facing the three strangers he observed. He chooses the seat one chair away from the little kid. There’s a huge back pack on the empty seat between them, while the kid is hugging a similar sized teddy bear. Who is the kid trying to forget on such age?

The kid turns at him, big gleamy eyes staring up at him innocently. “Are you here to forget too?” the little voice tugs him at the heart.

Yifan nods as a response, not sure how to act.

“I’m sorry.” is all the the kid tells him before he goes back to his own thoughts again, the grip around his teddy bear tightened.

Not long after, a lady comes out of the administration room, clad in white. It all makes Yifan feel like he’s in some kind of science fiction movie. “Ms. Kang Seulgi, please proceed to procedure room number two.” the lady pauses a little when the young lady with the huge box immediately stands up and makes her way towards the hall. “Ms. Yang Jang-ok to procedure room number three. Mr. Oh Sehun, you may enter the consultation room number two. Mr. Wu Yifan?” Yifan turns to the lady when he hears his name. “You are expected in procedure room number five.”

Yifan stands up with his box secured in his arms. He watches as the lady turns to the little kid, who is now looking slightly dejected. “Is Dad still talking with Dr. Kim?”

The lady smiles at the kid apologetically. “I’m afraid so. Want to get some hot chocolate? We have the best one here.”

With something still tugging at his heart, Yifan walks away towards the procedure room he’s designated to.

  
  
  


“Well, it was a rather easy mapping process. Your memories are so strong that we didn’t have to put much effort to track them.” Dr. Doh explains as he puts down a thin stack of paper onto his desk.

Yifan stares at the papers. “Does that mean I’m too attached to them?”

Dr. Doh looks up at him for a moment. “It just means that your brain is great at processing memory.”

“... oh.” Yifan looks down over his lap. “Eidetic memory. I kind of have that.”

“Must be very favorable for your job.” Dr. Doh gives him a flash of polite smile. One that looks very much practiced.

Favorable. Yifan agrees to that. But it’s also his doom. He’s going through this process because of it.

“You know, even for those with normal capacity of memory, forgetting something particular was never possible. It takes more brain power to forget things than to remember them, but it was a dream to forget something on purpose, something specific.” Dr. Doh talks as he writes down the paper in front of him. “Which was why the Memorasure machine was such a wonderful invention for mankind. It doesn’t only let you select a period of your life you want to forget, you can also select one variable and erase it from your whole life worth memory. Even I found it hard to believe at first.”

“Which was why you only became a practitioner for it after three years of studying it.” Yifan concludes.

Dr. Doh nods. “Yes.” he chuckles. “I had to be more than just one hundred percent sure of what I was going to practice.”

“Have you ever used it on yourself? The machine.”

The Doctor stops writing and finally looks up at him. “No. I haven’t.” he asserts. “I don’t have any particular memory I want to erase from my head. Yet.”

Yifan looks away, gaze wandering over the machine at the other room, separated by glass walls. “Good for you.”

He doesn’t hear any response to it.

“But, don’t you think,” he speaks again, somehow against his original will to stay silent until the Doctor pulls him in for another conversation, “don’t you think it’ll be cool… if we can erase some specific memory even without that machine? Like… having an automatic system that immediately eliminates memory once they start to have negative effects on us.”

Dr. Doh, who has abandoned his pen, is now paying full attention on him with a small smile on his face. “That would be selective amnesia. In some ways. You wouldn’t want that.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Would you really want to lose memories without you even realizing it? To have your brain act against your will? Scientists and doctors have worked for so many decades to prevent that, Mr. Wu.”

Yifan chuckles. It sounds so bitter and painful. “Would’ve saved me lots of time and money if it had happened to me.”

He had expected the Doctor to be at least offended by his statement, but all he sees on Dr. Doh’s face is a small smirk. “A little bit ironic for you to tell me that, when you ran out of my office room twice before you finally had the bravery to actually go through this.”

Now he’s the one feeling a little bit offended.

“Mr. Wu, you’re our four hundred and fifty sixth client.” Dr. Doh leans against his chair. “I myself have treated almost one fifth of that number. And from that amount of procedures, I can independently tell you this.”

Yifan looks at the Doctor right in the eyes.

“As much as it takes more effort for the brain to forget, it also takes much more courage to purposely do it. Especially if it comes to something, or  _ someone _ , that we hold very dear. Even when the pain has outweighed the memory’s worth to be kept.”

  
  
  


“This is the map of your memory about Zhang Yixing. The sections are scattered around, but do you notice those few ones that are noticeably larger than the rest? Those would be the memory roots. As I had informed you before, by pulling the roots, the other branches would be lifted as well. By erasing the most deeply anchored ones, the other smaller or lighter memories would go along with them. The purpose of this is to avoid getting your brain overworked by the machine and to prevent any unnecessary disturbance of your other memories. We would like to be as careful and meticulous as possible.

So, as you can see on the screen, there are six large sections interconnected with the smaller ones. Once your consciousness dives into your mind, we would use the machine to guide its path and help it enter the large sections. It would stay there while we ‘detach’ the memory. Once we’re done, we would guide it to the rest. By the time all of the memories are pulled out of your mind, you would stay in unconscious state while we escort you to the designated place. As you’ve confirmed, it would be your apartment, and your friend Mr. Huang would be assisting us.

However, there’s something I have to tell you about what you would face when your consciousness stays inside your memory.”

Yifan’s eyes spontaneously find Dr. Doh’s round ones. “Would that make me bail out?”

“I don’t think so.” Dr. Doh answers right away, before a mischievous smirk starts to adorn his lips. “Well, it depends.”

Sighing in mild annoyance, Yifan leans back against his chair. “What is it?”

“Since it’s your recent consciousness that would be visiting your memories, there’s a high chance that it would affect your perception about the things that would unfold. How do I say this in a simpler manner, hm? It might be difficult for you to handle it. Considering the impact they have on you.”

“So… I would go in with this… version of me? Looking like this?” Yifan gestures at himself. “But I would be interacting with everything around me from that time. Is that it?”

Dr. Doh nods. “That’s correct. There’s also a chance that you might look or feel like your old self, but your current knowledge would stay.”

Yifan takes a moment to down in all the information. He then looks up at Dr. Doh. “But how do you know all of this?” he challenges, doubt thick in his voice. “Is it possible for the people behind the machine to see what’s happening inside the head? There can’t be any sort of testimony from the clients because they wouldn’t remember what happened.”

“Whoa,” Dr. Doh laughs, “you're quite… fastidious.”

“Sorry. Spent years being an auditor. Our work requires a high level of trust issues.”

“And quite humorous.” Dr. Doh shakes his head in amusement. “And no, it is  _ not _ possible for us. All we have are those white dots on the screen,” he gestures at the huge monitor on the wall, “and one tiny red dot, which would be you, moving around. However, we’ve acquired knowledge of what happened inside our client’s mind through the trials before the Memorasure procedure was officially practiced.”

Yifan folds his arms against his chest. “I know I’ve been annoying, but can you tell me more?”

“Trust issues and high level of curiosity blended into a man. I’m impressed.” Dr. Doh clicks his tongue. “Other clients only wanted it to be done as quickly as possible. But it’s fine, you have all the right to know. It’s your brain at stake, after all. Anyway, I can’t really give you the details, but in the trials, the volunteers we experimented on were not fully anesthetized so they could report what they were seeing. We do have journals of those who had gone under that machine in the trials.”

“Hm.” Yifan tilts his head, face finally softening because the Doctor has been nice enough to put up with him. “No documentation needed for the clients because we are here just to forget.”

“Correct. Well done.”

“Okay.” Yifan nods in acknowledgement. “I’m satisfied for now.”

Dr. Doh doesn’t say anything to it at first. He stays still, eyes fixated on him, as if he’s observing. “You didn’t talk much in our previous sessions.”

Yifan coughs the sudden awkwardness away. “I didn’t really trust you before today.”

“That, or your sudden realization that you’re actually going under that machine tomorrow finally scared you bad enough that you want to be a hundred percent sure of what you’re about to face.”

“But you can’t give me a hundred percent.” Yifan almost laughs when the Doctor frowns at him in a rather amusing way. “Nothing can give us a hundred percent assurance. Only reasonable level of assurance. Even a two years long audit can only give people that.”

Dr. Doh sighs as he takes his thick rimmed glasses off. “You’re the very first client to ever exhaust me mentally.”

“I am glad I was given the honor.”

“And I’m glad you talk a lot today.” Dr. Doh gives him a friendly smile, one that catches him off guard. “It assures me that you’re not going to run away again.”

The statement silences Yifan for a moment. “I’m… determined.”

“Good.” Dr. Doh gives him a thumbs up. “It eases me as well. So. Be ready for tomorrow, Mr. Wu. Get some good rest tonight, and I suggest some light breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“Am I dismissed now?” Yifan straightens his back. He didn’t realize he was this eager to leave the place.

“Yes, Mr. Wu. Wait, is that all?”

Yifan’s gaze follows the direction Dr. Doh’s hand is gesturing towards. It’s the box he carried in. “Yeah.” he answers flatly. “He… he took almost everything with him. When he left the house.”

“I see.” Dr. Doh then faces him. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wu.”

For a moment, Yifan is stunned. “For what?”

Dr. Doh shrugs. “For what you went through. Considering you’re here, I believe it was unfortunate enough for me to empathize.”

It’s something he had overlooked. This Doctor in front of him had seen so many miserable faces, heard so many tragic stories, and probably comforted so many trembling hands and weary hearts. It’s either he’s really empathetic with his clients, or it was all just rehearsed for the sake of maintaining the good image of the entity. It doesn’t matter anyway. He doesn’t need empathy. Nor does he need to be the object of a pity party.

There’s nothing special about his case, anyway. Adultery happens to people and screws marriages up every now and then, right?

Yifan thanks him, nonetheless. The effort is appreciated.

===

Back then, Wu Yifan had an immense faith in love.

Even after several heartbreaks - even after a very severe one -, he still believed that love was powerful enough to open someone’s eyes. Even after losing hope in being loved, he still believed that if only, if only, he found someone who was willing to be loved by him, he would be able to give the person all the love he never had the chance to pour out before. He believed, oh so recklessly, that one day he would love someone so intensely, and by then, he would be loved back.

Which was why he never gave up on his beloved. He never gave up on loving him. Even almost six years after they first met, after solid six years of their friendship, after five years of being in love with his best friend, and the same five years of witnessing his beloved being in love with someone else only to get broken by the same culprit, he never lost his grip. He didn’t even care about reciprocation. His one and only mission was to love. Love and love. Because that was the only thing he had ever known. He never really knew what it was like to take; all he knew was to give.

And that night, as he saw his best friend  _ and _ unrequited love for five years curled up on his bed, clad in mint colored sweater and white sweatpants, with his head half sinking onto his pillow and gaze mellow, Yifan thought to himself, this was the final battle he would have to face. This was the moment he would gamble with himself and let down the armor around him.

This was the moment he would set the grenade off.

“Let’s get married.” he announced to his one and only audience.

It was already midnight, and was as silent as it could get. His studio apartment was spacious enough for his voice to echo across the space. His beloved looked up at him, perplexed, alarmed. But a moment later, the gaze softened. “Don’t scare me like that.” his beloved chuckled weakly. “I’m not in the right shape to joke. You see, I’m a fucking mess.”

“I’m not joking.” Yifan countered calmly. “I’ve told you when we first became friends, since you wanted to be married by 27, I’d be your groom if by then you haven’t found your groom-to-be.”

“But there are still, like, seven months before I turn 27.” his beloved raised an eyebrow. “And seriously, why did you bring that up so randomly? Are you alright?”

“No. I’m not. Because you’re not.”

“... Wu Yifan, you and your sweet talks.”

Yifan gulped down the bubbling feelings threatening to burst out of him. “You know I’m in love with you, Xing. You’ve always known. I always made sure of it.” he finally dropped his bomb. “In all these years, I have loved you, and I still do.”

He had expected his beloved to look at him in dismay, appalled by his words and desperation. But his beloved smiled softly, weakly, at him. “I know, Fan.” the acknowledgment sounded fragile yet firm. “No matter how nice you are, you wouldn’t have looked out for me when I was about to make stupid decisions, catered to me whenever I felt unwell, saved me from self destruction when I thought I could make…  _ him _ ... see that he could just…” his heart broke when pain and resentment filled his beloved’s eyes for a moment, “you wouldn’t have taken care of me so greatly like you did if you didn’t love me more than you’d ever love a friend. I’m not blind, Yifan. I’ve known it all.”

“Then that’s all you need to do.” Yifan scooted closer on the bed, until his knees touched his beloved’s. “You only need to acknowledge my love, and let me love you. You don’t have to love me back. Just… let me love you. I’ll do all the loving. My love is enough for the both of us.”

Fear started to consume him when he witnessed bitterness filling his beloved’s eyes. “Don’t be crazy.” his beloved whispered agonizingly. “You can’t do that to yourself.”

“God, Yixing, it’s not…” Yifan croaked, “it’s not crazy to love someone.”

“ _ I _ can’t do that to you. I can’t just… take, and take. You… you deserve better than a fucked up mess like me.”

A crooked smile spread across Yifan’s lips. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

Oh, Heavens, what a mess they were.

“Marry me, Zhang Yixing.” Yifan said again, much softer than before, but so much firmer. “I’ll take care of you. Let me take care of you.”

Letting out a long, heavy sigh, his beloved pushed himself against the mattress to sit. “What’s with you and marriage, Wu Yifan? It can’t be just because the silly promise you made with me.”

“If I become your husband, I’ll have all the legal rights to take care of you.” somehow Yifan found new energy to speak louder and more animated. “You won’t even be able to question my acts. ‘Why are you like this?’ ‘Why are you doing that?’ Well, because I’m your husband!”

Unexpectedly, his beloved snorted. “That sounded like dictatorship.”

“... did that?” Yifan murmured dejectedly.

“Let me ask you. Why? Why would you do all of that? Why would you go to such lengths for someone who can’t even give you back what you gave them?”

Yifan stayed still for a moment, eyes blinking back at his beloved.

“Because I love you.” he answered shortly. “Can’t it be a good reason?”

There was something happening in his beloved’s eyes. A mixture of emotions, swirling, creating a raging cyclone. Yifan couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He was curious about what his beloved was thinking of. Was he finally considering the possibilities? Or was he thinking of the way to escape from him instead?

His train of thought was stopped when his beloved put a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re going to get stuck with a broken vase; me. I don’t think I have to explain to you how messed up I am. You can’t fix me.” his beloved’s voice trembled.

Yifan shrugged. “I can’t fix you. But I know how to be careful around something broken. Trust me.”

“You’re going to get lots of cuts on your hands.”

“Well, I’m pretty loaded. I’ll stock the band-aids and ointments regularly.” Yifan smiled sheepishly.

“I don’t love you the way you love me.” his beloved said, hushed, as if he was afraid he would break him eventually. “I can… I can let you love me. But I can’t guarantee I’d love you back.”

Yifan chuckled softly. “And that’s enough.”

“What if… what if I cry every night?”

“The sight would definitely hurt me, but the tissues and my shoulder would always be ready.”

“What if I turn out to be the worst person someone would ever consider to marry?”

“Zhang Yixing, I’ve seen you in your lowest, most insane state. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“What if…” his beloved leaned closer, “what if one day you wake up… and regret all of it?”

Yifan took a moment to actually think of it. Would he ever regret doing this? Would he ever regret giving out all of him for someone who wouldn’t do the same?

Nothing came into his mind. Because it wasn’t what he was looking for. He wasn’t looking for reciprocation.

He just wanted to love.

Frowning slightly, Yifan put his hand on his beloved’s which was rested on his shoulder. “Error four zero four, not found.” he paused to grin when his beloved burst into laughing fit, shaking his shoulder while at it. “Even if I do regret, what am I going to do about it? Leave you? Hell no. I’d rather choke.”

He waited patiently until his beloved’s laughter ceased. But he was surprised with the tears that followed.

“I’m sorry.” his beloved whispered brokenly. “I’m so sorry you had to love me.”

Yifan’s eyes were burning, but he held back the threatening tears because there could only be one person crying in the room. “Ouch,” he pulled his beloved closer and wrapped his arms around him, “don’t be sorry for being loved.”

Some minutes after, his beloved finally let out a tearful ‘yes’ for his proposal.

===

Everything around him is so familiar, yet also so strange at the same time.

For more than a year, Yifan lived in a place where everything was in bright colors. The wooden floor, the furniture, the blinds, the tiles, the sheets, all of them were in pastel and shades of white. Here, it’s all about dark colors. The interior is a play of navy, shades of grey, black, and dark brown for wooden things. This was the place he lived in for almost three years before he married Yixing, the time he spent here was much longer, but somehow he feels like more than half of him was left inside the empty condominium the moment he walked out of there this morning.

Somehow, some way, he can’t recognize himself anymore.

“For God’s sake,  _ ge _ , get some sleep.”

He’s pulled away from his train of thoughts by the voice of his dear friend. Huang Zitao was always so bossy on him despite being three years younger. However, just like an older brother who adores his little brother very much, Yifan just let him have his ways. “I’m trying.”

“Try harder.”

“Sometimes trying is not enough.”

There’s the sound of metal utensil hitting the ceramic plate. Zitao must still be eating his cereal, at ten in the evening. “Don’t guilt trip me, old hag.”

Yifan sighs heavily. “Sorry.”

Zitao snorts before going quite again, probably continuing what he was doing previously. Yifan closes his eyes and snuggles his face against his pillow, literally trying to open the portal to the ink black darkness of dreamless land. He really wants to get a good rest for tomorrow. But the fabric of the sheet feels different from the ones he had grown used to sleep on, and he just can’t shake it off. Yixing always chose sheets with the fabric as soft as possible. This one is quite rough, although it’s the nice and comfortable type of roughness. It’s alright. This should help him erase the familiarity.

He’s putting so much effort in erasing any kind of familiarity he has left with everything that’s Zhang Yixing.

Why has he been the only one putting this much effort in being okay?

“Tao,” he calls out and waits until Zitao replies with an annoyed hum, “am I really not worthy?”

“... of what?”

“Of being loved.”

He hears Zitao pushes himself against the chair to stand. He can make out the sound of Zitao’s strides across the room and then him throwing his entire weight on the edge of the bed. Now that Zitao is in his sight, he can see the younger one looking at him with worry dripping from his eyes.

“Why do I have to be the one doing all of this?” he continues his monologue. “Why am I the one drowning alone? Why was the pain expensed all on me?”

“Ge…” Zitao calls in a whisper.

“He… why can’t he suffer like me? Why can’t he drown with me as well? If he can’t be in love with me, why can’t he be in pain with me instead? Why do I always have to face everything alone?”

“Ge, you’re not alone.” Zitao scoots closer to him. “I’m here, aren’t I? I’ll be with you tomorrow. I’ll be outside the room. I’ll be the one bringing you home after that. You’re not alone in this, ge. I am here.”

Yifan looks up at his brother-like friend, and all of a sudden, his sight starts to be blurry, watery, eyes burning. “But I want him.” he croaks out.

Zitao stays mum.

“Where did I go wrong?” Yifan says almost inaudibly. “What did I do wrong? I gave it my all, you know. I filled my life with him. He was all I cared about. Has he eaten? How would he go home from the studio? Did he hurt his fingers again? Has he caught a cold? Did he want that wristwatch he had been looking at for days? Did someone piss him off? All I could think of was him. All I cared about was his happiness. I vowed to make him happy. I loved him. I loved him in every way I could come up with. All he had to do… all he had to do was to be there. With me. Even if not for me, then at least with me. But he-”

Suddenly he loses his words; he starts coughing severely. In the midst of his panic, he notices Zitao immediately reaching for him, patting his back repeatedly. “Ssh, ge, easy, easy there.”

He forces himself to calm down, gasping for air while he tries to breathe normally again. Once he succeeds, he sinks his head deeper into the pillow. “Why?” he murmurs. Tears start to pool on the corners of his eyes; they immediately flow down. “Why did he have to do that?”

He feels Zitao’s hand caressing his arm gently, up and down.

“Why did he have to?”

_ Why, Yixing? Why? _

“Just… why?”

Moments later, Zitao is there at the other side of the bed, hand still patting his arm softly; like a mother putting her toddler to sleep. Yifan’s gaze is on Zitao’s face, but everything is blurry in his sight. Eventually, the exhaustion pulls him into a deep slumber, but not before he mumbled something in his half asleep state, something that he didn’t know had broken his friend’s heart.

“... he should’ve killed me instead.”

===

It had rained for hours.

When Yifan stepped out of the dorm in the morning, he had already noticed the gloomy sky, but his mind had such immense assurance that there would not be any downpour for the day. Thus he just grabbed his bike and rode it to the campus, enjoying the morning breeze; ‘ _ morning air is good for your skin!’ _ Zitao would always chirp. Even if it did rain later, he would only have to run as fast as he could back to the dorm, since the buildings were not really that far from each other.

But turned out it rained  _ hard _ .

And there was Yifan, standing under the canopy in front of the entrance door to the campus building. He looked down at the books in his arms; they wouldn’t survive even if he put them inside his backpack. The rain was ruthless.

“Great.” he huffed, feeling helpless. Maybe it was his punishment for taking the weather too lightly. He was already so hungry, staying back for another hour would actually kill him. Yifan sighed in despair as he looked up at the sky. Of course it couldn’t be seen clearly. The rain was blocking the view.

Standing right under the edge of the canopy, he stretched out a hand and let the droplets of water fall on his palm. The temperature soothed the heat on his skin. If only he wasn’t carrying his books with him, he would’ve had walked around under the rain and enjoy the sensation of water hitting his body. Might as well get a free shower, and a free ticket to a fever.

As he lowered his hand, his eyes caught the sight of a big, obnoxiously bright yellow umbrella. A figure followed underneath it, and Yifan couldn’t help but observe because what kind of a person, in their right mind, would walk around with big yellow umbrella? Scuffed white Converse sneakers, tattered blue jeans, white tee beneath pink shirt. Yifan frowned at the umbrella again.

The figure halted steps once he was under the canopy, right next to him. Yifan immediately faced his front again, but from his peripheral vision, he watched as the man closed his yellow umbrella and held it like a cane. The stranger was noticeably shorter than him, and Yifan couldn’t see the face underneath the black locks. He glanced from time to time, finding the stranger fumbling with his phone, looking like he was angry texting someone.

After a moment, the stranger groaned in distress, and Yifan couldn’t have related to it more.

Another minute passed between them, and out of his expectation, the stranger spoke. “Forgot your umbrella?” soft, delicate voice greeted him.

Yifan looked around for a moment to make sure that the stranger was really talking to him. “Uh,” he coughed slightly, “I didn’t think it would rain today.”

The stranger chuckled. “The monsoon season has started, dude.”

Glancing awkwardly at the stranger, Yifan wondered what was the stranger trying to achieve by outing the lack of his knowledge regarding the weather. “Oh.”

Another minute passed, still with awkwardness lingering around them. Yifan stared emptily at the rain. He would kill for a bowl of hotpot. As he imagined the taste of broth and savory meat on his tongue, the stranger’s voice entered his ears once more.

“If you’re going back to the dorms, you can join me.”

Yifan blinked. “You’re sharing that…” he trailed off since he couldn’t come up with any mild insult for the umbrella, “with me?”

The stranger shrugged. “If you want.”

“Are we even living in the same building?”

“South wing. I’ve seen you multiple times.” the stranger smirked at him. “You’re my year but from class A, right? With Kim Junmyeon? I'm his friend.”

Yifan nodded in acknowledgment upon the mention of his classmate. Then somehow, the mischievousness infected him. “Oh, have you been watching me?” he mirrored the smirk.

“I haven’t. But it’s not hard to remember you,” the stranger took a step forward towards him, “after witnessing you trip over the stairs last week.”

In that moment, Yifan felt like all of the blood in his system had been drained out of his body.

“Easy there. I won’t tell anyone.” the stranger laughed at him. “Let’s just go back. I’m starving.”

Trying with all his might to ignore the sudden heat on his cheeks, Yifan stepped backwards awkwardly as the stranger opened his umbrella again. “I’m… starving as well.”

“No way. Are we connected?” the stranger said flatly. “Let’s have lunch together. I hate eating alone. Hotpot. How does that sound?”

Yifan’s eyes widened at the stranger.  _ God, are we really connected? _ “Uh, great?”

The stranger, out of his expectations, suddenly gave him a grin. “Then let’s go!” the stranger said as he handed the umbrella to him. “But you gotta hold it for me. If you don’t want to get your head hit by it along the way.”

Realizing what the stranger was talking about, Yifan burst into laughter. “Okay.” he said in the middle of his laugh as he took the umbrella. “I’m Yifan, by the way.”

“Yixing.” the stranger smiled at him, dimples adorning his cheeks. “Please don’t fall in love with me.”

“...  _ what _ ?”

“You see, in TV dramas,” the stranger -  _ Yixing _ \- took another step closer to him, “this is exactly where the lead falls for the second lead.”

Yifan could feel his lips and throat getting dry.

But the stranger, who wasn’t really a stranger anymore, had the audacity to laugh wholeheartedly at him before dragging him along.

===

“Mr. Huang? Your friend will be alright.”

“I know.”

“We guarantee his safety during the procedure.”

“Of course you do.”

“It will be a painless process. Your friend would not be harmed in any way.”

“I’ll call someone to turn this facility down immediately if you guys hurt even an inch of him.”

“We copy that.”

“I know you do.”

“Then would you,  _ please _ , let go of Mr. Wu’s hand?”

Yifan’s gaze shifts to Zitao who’s standing tall over him, still squeezing his hand, with a deep frown plastered on his face. It’s already funny enough for Yifan to look at Zitao from such angle - him being on the bed attached to the Memorasure machine -, but it gets ten times more hilarious to witness Zitao being the one breaking cold sweat instead of him.

“Tao?” he calls out to save Dr. Doh from more irritation. “Taozi? Hey.”

Zitao finally turns to him. “You’ll get out of that scary thing safely. I  _ will _ make sure of it.” he says through gritted teeth, eyeing Dr. Doh once more.

To Yifan’s relief, Dr. Doh just replies Zitao’s death glare with a polite smile.

After several pleads and some more reassurance, Zitao  _ finally _ lets go of Yifan’s hand and steps out of the room. “I’m sorry, Doc.” Yifan says sheepishly. “It’s just that he’s seen me being messed up for too many times. I think it traumatized him.”

“You have a very supportive and caring friend, Mr. Wu. That’s a blessing.”

Yifan nods in a silent agreement to the statement.

“How about you?” Dr. Doh stares down at him. “Are you scared?”

“... sixty eight percent scared.”

Dr. Doh snorts, sounding genuinely humored. “Guess we’ve got to rely on the rest thirty two. What’s scaring you? The machine?”

Yifan observes the Memorasure machine near his feet; it looks very similar to an MRI machine. “Nope.” he says truthfully.

“The process?”

“Not really.”

“The fact that you’re actually going to forget a handful of chunk of your life?”

Yifan doesn’t answer to it.

One of Dr. Doh’s assistants signals that they’re ready to go. Dr. Doh gives a thumb up in acknowledgement, then turns to him again. “We’re going to anesthetize you in a minute, then we’ll get you in position under the machine. Any last words?”

His mind goes blank for a moment. Dr. Doh is still waiting patiently for him to speak. “Can I ask you something instead?” he waits until the Doctor nods at him. “If this wasn’t your job, if you were… general people, like I am, would you ever... go through this?”

Something in Dr. Doh’s eyes turn dim, as if hues of gray are swirling in them. Yifan starts to regret ever asking the question. But then Dr. Doh gives him a smile, a rather melancholic one. “I chose to do this as a job because I believed I would.”

The statement brings a little bit of peace into Yifan’s chest, some way, somehow.

“Okay.” Yifan shifts his gaze towards the ceiling. “I’m ready.”

As he closes his eyes, the sound of the machine’s constant beeping becomes more audible than before. He then feels a presence near him. “Thursday, February eighteenth, two thousand and twenty. Client, Mr. Wu Yifan. Procedure, Memorasure. Performing Doctor, Doh Kyungsoo. Starts on 10.07 AM.”

Something cold touches his cheeks, circling around his nose - cupping it. “Anesthetizing in three, two, one… please inhale, Mr. Wu.”

“Please count from ten to one, Mr. Wu.”

_ Ten, nine, eight, _ he feels the bed under him moves slowly,  _ seven, six, _

_ Yixing, _

_ four, three, _

_ Xing, _

_ one.  _

* * *


	3. Strato

When he opens his eyes again, he’s outside, it’s late noon,

and it’s raining.

Long gone was the cold bed, the machine around him, Dr. Doh and his assistants, and the entirety of the facility. Yifan is standing on the outer lobby of a very familiar building; it’s the condominium building he resided in until two days ago. He looks down onto his own appearance, noticing that he’s wearing a black sweater and light blue jeans, and considering he’s wearing a pair of slippers, it means that he’s not going anywhere soon.

Instead, it’s someone in front of him that is going away.

There’s a white sedan parked a few feet before him. A familiar figure comes from behind the car, closing the trunk’s door. He can recognize that baby blue jacket anywhere, for he was the one who bought it for that person. Yixing. It’s Yixing, who’s in his sight, who’s walking towards him with dark heavy clouds looming above his head.

He remembers now. It was supposed to be August 2019, six months before his Memorasure day.

It was the day Yixing left him for good.

And he’s experiencing it all over again, for the sake of getting rid of it from his mind.

Yixing doesn’t say a word for a moment, as he remembers he had done back then. Zhang Yixing, who was always so full of words, is now silent. Yifan doesn’t know what to say either. He didn’t know back then, he still doesn’t know at the moment.

“If…” Yixing takes the honor to break the silence, “if you happen to find any of my stuff left there, please…”

“I’d mail them to you.” Yifan says automatically. As if it’s all scripted; which it is, because this all happened before. He only needs to go along with it.

It actually still breaks him to see Yixing lowering his head, shoulders slouched, looking so small and scared, probably of hurting him any more. “Thank you.” Yixing murmurs.

Yifan’s mind starts to spin on its own, trying hard to find anything else to say to his husband - they’re not legally divorced yet by the time this happened. Something reminds him that Yixing still has to apply ointment on his wounds daily for the rest of the month, but it then reminds him of the reason why Yixing even got those wounds in the first place, and it somehow sets something ablaze in him. He immediately puts the flame off and shakes his head. “Goodbye, Yixing.” he says instead. This was what he said back then.

And Yixing nods slowly, weakly, almost hesitantly, like that day. “Goodbye, Yifan.”

Even after what happened, they just couldn’t be hostile to each other. They were too fond of each other to actually, properly hate one another. Yifan loves Yixing too much to hate him properly, and what hurts the most is that Yixing knew it. Yifan loves Yixing very, very much. But doom always awaits those who love too much, especially those who love someone too much more than that person’s love for them.

With a small wave, Yixing steps back and turns around on his heels. With that small wave, he cuts the last red string that has struggled to keep connecting them. Yixing walks towards his car, still with slouched shoulders, and Yifan watches as his husband opens the door to the driver seat. Once it closes, Yixing starts the engine and takes his time to actually start driving away. Just like that. Yifan still wonders how could Yixing leave just like that.

Something inside him is set ablaze. It urges him to move his legs, to walk forward, and he does walk towards the rain until his whole body is drenched, bangs sticking on his forehead. Yifan forces his eyes to make out Yixing’s car under the rain, and his gaze stays fixated on it until it disappears behind the gates. He stays there on the pavement, lips pressed together tightly, hands balled into fists. His legs give in, and he involuntarily gets down to crouch, arms slowly wrapping around the folded limbs. Resting his chin on his knees, Yifan still wonders how could Yixing leave just like that.

How could Yixing leave just like that?

Even after experiencing the event for the second time, he still cannot comprehend the entirety of it. How could Yixing, who had sworn to try to love him, who had looked at him as if he was the most important person in the world for him, leave without even any kind of last glance of hesitation? He didn’t even need to hear an apology from him, although getting one would’ve been nice. Couldn't he say something more to him as a token of their farewell? Yixing could’ve just started defending himself, his choices, his decisions, and Yifan would’ve stayed through them all. Yifan would’ve listened. Even it would’ve fixed nothing. How? How could Yixing leave _just like that_?

However, there is no use to understand it. No matter what the reason would be, the outcome is still the same; Yixing left him. The love of his life as walked away from his life for good, and he just stood there to let it happen. There was nothing he could do, afterall. There was no possible way to hold onto someone who was already half out of the door the whole time. He couldn’t exactly say that Yixing left, because Yixing never even stayed. He couldn’t say he lost Yixing, because Yixing was never his to begin with.

For more than a year, he was just this pathetic fool who was always so desperate to gain recognition for his capability to love. He took pride in it that it all blinded him, preventing him from seeing the truth. He really thought it all would turn out to be a beautiful fairy tale where Yixing finally sees him only. His imaginations deceived him into thinking that they were visions of his future. His optimism and high hopes were his own doom.

Now look who’s crying under the rain.

Is he really crying again? He can’t tell, for the rain is still hitting his face. Are his eyes burning because of the rain, or is it because he’s also producing his own waterwork? It doesn’t matter. It still burns.

And it still hurts.

It hurts really, really bad.

It’s the kind of pain he can’t cure. There is no visible wound he could apply medicine on. There is no drug that could fix this, no matter how many pills he plans to take. Even if he cuts himself open, the pain would not be able to compete with it.

This is why he’s doing all of this. This is why he’s forgetting everything about it. It can’t hurt if it never happened.

Everything around him starts to fade into white. Yifan closes his eyes, his heart thumping loudly against his ribcage.

===

“One large section has been erased, Doc.”

“Several nearest sections were erased along.”

“He’s doing good.” Dr. Doh hums, keeping his voice down. “We are going for the second.”

His assistants immediately go back behind their designated monitors. “We are ready, Doc.”

“Good.”

“May I say something, Doc?” one of his assistants raises a hand.

Dr. Doh glances at her. “Go ahead, Sooyoung.”

“As you had briefed us about before, this client has an unusually strong memory endurance. Which means the links from one section to another is also very firm.” Sooyoung’s gaze shifts from the monitor to him. “I wonder if it’s an advantage for us, or a disadvantage instead.”

“Shouldn’t it be an advantage?” Jaehyun, his other assistant, adds in. “Doesn’t it mean that the smaller memories would easily follow the bigger ones when they are extracted?”

Looking at the biggest monitor in the room where the white dots are scattered, Dr. Doh thinks to himself for a moment. “It’s actually the other way around. Because of Mr. Wu’s strong memory endurance, it’s the sections themselves that were strengthened, which then caused their links to one another to be just as strong. It means that if we’re not careful, we could actually leave a memory or two behind.” he sighs. “Which was why I told both of you that this would be quite challenging for us.”

He sees his assistants nodding in acknowledgement. “Are we good to go?” he asks, and once they nod at him, he proceeds with the machine.

“Let’s do our best to help Mr. Wu.”

===

Yifan opens his eyes to the sight of his bedroom.

Or technically, the bedroom he used to share with Yixing. It’s gloomy, and the temperature is cold enough to make him shiver. He’s on the bed, covered with a blanket that’s hanging on his hip, exposing his thin tee covered upper body. _When is this?_ He turns to his side, finding no one on the unmade side of the bed. It must be still morning, and Yixing had woken up before him as usual.

Yanking the blanket away, Yifan begins to search for his phone. Once he’s found it, he immediately turns it on; it’s a Saturday, November 17th. 2018.

Five months into their marriage. Eight months before they fell apart.

He gets off the bed and circles around it to get to the door.

And there, as he had guessed, he finds the one he was looking for, sitting on one of the chairs around the dining table, the nearest to the window. Legs folded on the chair, one arm wrapped around the limbs, while the other hand held a cup of something steaming. The lackluster color of the sunlight washes over his face, and Yifan takes his moment to collect himself.

This is a happy memory, and the one sitting near the window is still his husband.

“It’s been going on since midnight.” Yixing doesn’t even turn to look at him. He must’ve heard the door being closed.

Even the slightly hoarse voice inflicts such pain in his chest. But he gulps it all down, for this is a happy memory, and he should make the most out of it before everything fades into white later. “Really?” Yifan muses, sauntering across the living area towards the dining. Yixing’s unruly bed hair catches his attention, and now he realizes how much he has missed the sight.

Yixing wiggles his eyebrows lazily while taking a sip of his drink; it’s milk. “I ditched the recording session today.”

“For Baekhyun?” Yifan asks, eyes widening. He knows this has happened before, but he might just play along and pretend he’s experiencing it all the first time. “You mean... the Baekhyun?”

Turning aside to look up at him, Yixing smirks. “Yeap. Nation’s Top Soloist Baekhyun.”

“How come?”

“Well, you see,” Yixing uses his free hand to gesture at the window, technically at the scenery outside, “it’s such a perfect weather to stay in.”

For a moment, Yifan is at a loss of what to say. He had forgotten for a while, how carefree and cheerful Yixing was. Yixing was his personal ball of sunshine. It feels like that was eons ago. “You ditched the recording session for this country’s top soloist just because the weather is perfect to stay in.” Yifan then polishes the statement.

Yixing’s smirk turns into a triumphant smile. “That prick Byun Baekhyun picked a Saturday, of all days, to record. He always does that. Can he just, like, get a life or something?”

Yixing was mischievous, witty, full of amusing remarks. Yixing was happy with his own achievements and the steady pace of his life. Yixing was happy.

What happened to them?

How did it go wrong?

“You’re…” Yifan forces himself to continue with the play, “aware that your largest sum of songwriting and composing royalty comes from him, right?”

“Considering how many weekends and midnights I’ve sacrificed for him, I should be having the upper hand on this matter.”

That’s right. This is a happy memory, one that he shouldn’t taint with his own pain. He should let himself be happy for one last time with this. He titters as he envelopesYixing’s head with his hand, gently and carefully resting the head against his abdomen. “But you adore him nonetheless.”

He should be happy in this. For it could be his last time being so, with Yixing.

“So? What should we do to celebrate this very empty and unproductive morning?”

He fights back a smile from breaking his face when Yixing nuzzles his head against the fabric of his tee. A smile, and tears from forming on the corners of his eyes. He can’t ruin this memory. “What we usually do when we’re being very unproductive.”

They both look at each other and grinned.

And then, just like how he remembers it, they are out on the building’s park at the second floor of the building. Slippers off, drenched by the rain, laughter bubbling in their throats, they chase and run away from each other. They have to swipe the bangs away from their faces every five seconds, but that doesn’t stop them from running around the wet grass. This is what happiness was for Yifan. This is his happiness. This moment, this oh so little yet so strong moment, is his happiness.

And now he’s getting rid of it.

At some point, Yifan slips off and falls bottom first, not even to his surprise. Yixing immediately comes to the rescue, laughing so boisterously. His bottom is hurting, but he can’t take his attention off Yixing’s bright face. Yixing, too, was happy even with little things like this.

But then the laughter subsides, and Yixing joins him on the grass, sitting face to face with him. This is the moment where the heavy talk begins. He remembers it very vividly, even to this moment.

“How do you do this?”

Yifan sighs. He’s really going through this again. “Do what?”

“Love me.”

He waits until Yixing starts to list down the things he had done during their life together. Yixing reminds him how he got drenched with him in the rain, how he stayed home when Yixing asked him to, how he cooked for Yixing when he was sick and when he was not even sick, how he brought Yixing food in the midnights when Yixing had to stay back in the studio at his company’s headquarters and even brought snacks for Yixing’s producing team, how he stole a day to go to Changsha to pay respect for his late parents in law - even when he had promised himself he would never set foot in China again after things fell apart between his family -, how he never picked his own TV show and let Yixing flip over the channels, how he always listened to what Yixing said, how he always did his best to give Yixing what he wanted.

Listening to all of that, he wonders how he had done it all. Love really made him selfless, to the point where all he could see was the one who had his heart.

“You didn’t stop loving me even when I told you I was not capable of loving you back.

You never stopped loving me even when you know yourself that I haven’t been loving you as much as you love me.

You took me in, even when I told you I could manage by myself, because somehow you saw through me, somehow you knew I couldn't.

You don’t tell me often, that you love me, but it all shows. It’s clear in front of my eyes.

You love me. How… how do you do that?”

The rain might have made it impossible for Yifan to tell if Yixing is crying or not, but he knows it all from how broken the voice had sounded. Yifan stays silent for a while, eyes fixated on Yixing’s face, almost blurred because of the water drops. The words Yixing had recited at him are echoing in his mind. He really did all of those things. He really did love Yixing that much.

Bitterness starts to take over him. He should comfort Yixing, if he’s going to stick to the scenario of this memory, but his lips just won’t allow him to. Instead, he lets the bitterness win over him.

“And even after all of that, you still wouldn’t look at me only.”

Might as well just say whatever he wants, because this time, he doesn’t have to be afraid of the consequences.

“Even after I did everything I could to show you how much I love you, how much you are loved, you still wouldn’t do it. I never even hoped to be loved back. You were still trying to love yourself, you were still struggling to do it, yet you said you were trying to love me the same. And I believed you. I was _thrilled_. I had high hopes, although I still prioritized your happiness over the reciprocation of my love. What I did for you was never to make you love me; it was to make you happy. The least you could do was to let me do it. To let me do all of that for the rest of our lives together. To let me be the only man to make you happy.

But even after all of that, what did you do?

You hurt me. So fucking bad.

Why did you?

How… how could you?”

By now, the rain has subsided to the point where it’s only drizzling. Yifan can’t tell what kind of look is on Yixing’s face at the moment, because his sight is blurred with his own tears. It hurts. Acknowledging fully that Yixing had hurt him hurts him all over again.

He hangs his head low, hands balling into fists. Anger surges into his veins, spreading all over his body. “Why, Xing? Dammit, _why_?!” before he could recognize his own act, his voice had risen up in a scream; a weak one, yet the impact it brings onto him is still thick.

The rain has stopped. Silence now replaces the calming sound of water hitting the ground.

“I can’t answer your question.”

_What?_

Yifan looks up, heart sinking down inside. Suddenly it’s all quiet, so quiet, that he starts to hear a buzzing sound in his ears. Yixing is now staring at him with a poised look on his face. And those eyes, those beautiful eyes, they seem to have the upper hand now; they look like they know something that Yifan doesn’t.

And this wasn’t what happened back then This wasn’t how his memory went.

“What?” Yifan finally voices out his confusion.

Yixing offers him a small smile. “You asked why I did that.” he then shrugs. “I can’t provide you any answer.”

Something doesn’t feel right. Like a premonition of imminent disaster. “Why?” he urges, because he can’t stand the constant obliviousness. And also the way Yixing looks so much calmer than he’s supposed to be; it’s irking him.

“Well, because... I don’t know.”

“... you don’t know?” Yifan repeats the words, voice thick with bitterness. “You hurt me, and you don’t know why you did it? You _don’t_ know?”

Yixing nods in confirmation. “I just don’t know.”

“Why? Why don’t you?”

“Because, Yifan, I’m a part of your memory.” Yixing gives him the small smile again. “And your memory was built on what you’ve witnessed, what you’ve picked up, what you’ve deduced, concluded and processed into your mind, embedded as much as your brain was capable of. Shortly to say, your memory could only contain what you know. If I’m a part of your memory, that means…?”

“... means you only know what I know.” Yifan completes the sentence, voice trailing off.

Yixing’s small smile turns into a proud grin. “Yep!”

“Which also means… I’m talking to my own mind?” Yifan looks up at his husband. “You’re not Yixing?”

“I _am_ Yixing.” his husband spreads his arms outwards. “I’m every inch of Zhang Yixing. However, I’m the Zhang Yixing that you’ve come to know. I’m the version of Zhang Yixing that you always saw me as. So I can only tell you what I’ve told you in your memories, and maybe a little bit of your own thoughts. It’s tricky, I know. The whole procedure is tricky.”

Yifan frowns slightly. “You know…?’

“Memorasure? Of course. If you know, then I know.” Yixing reaches out a hand and places it on the top of his left knee. “You’re here to erase me.”

‘_You’re here to erase me_.’

Why does the sentence bring such pain into his chest? Why is his own decision torturing him like this?

“But let’s not dwell on that for now. How are you holding up? Still confused?”

He looks up at Yixing, feeling the resentment inside him dissipates. “I’m just… I’m… it’s… it’s possible.” Yifan lets out, weak but sure. “It’s actually plausible. This. Whatever is happening. But I’m… I don’t feel so well about this.”

“Chill out. You’re just talking to me. No big deal.” Yixing grins at him. “No sort of consequences would come for you, anyway. Everything is still going to fade away. I’m still going to cease to exist.”

The last word causes a surge of pain in his chest, somehow. “But how… how is this even possible? I can see the bigger picture, but I just can’t seem to understand how it actually works.”

“Well, as what I said, this is your memory and you’re allowed to do anything to it.” Yixing points his finger up at the sky. “You want the clouds to be colored pink? You want your flying dragons? Go ahead and try. It’s all up to your imagination.”

Yifan looks up at the sky as well. He cringes at the thought. “It’s going to look scary.”

“Ah, right, you’re short of creativity.” he hears Yixing sigh. “So good at following instructions and calculating the ups and downs of possibilities as long as they’re in numbers. But your brain goes haywire when you’re in the face of something abnormal, and your first move would always be correcting it instead of giving it a chance to happen.”

Gulping down the sudden nervousness bubbling in his throat, he blinks back at Yixing who still looks so collected. “… you can’t be Yixing for saying that... but you also _can_ be Yixing for saying that.”

Yixing laughs. So lightly, so melodiously. Suddenly, a wave of bittersweet feelings washes over him, and he recognizes the one that hits him the hardest; his longing for their happy times.

“It’s alright. You should be in an environment that you feel most comfortable with. However, as you just did, you can actually alter the happenings.” Yixing shrugs. “Won’t change what happened in reality, but if your imagination and desire are strong enough, it would feel like it really happened.”

“Can’t be as simple as that.”

“Oh, it actually can. You know the stories about patients who were traumatized by some horrible events that happened in their lives, how they rewrote the plot of their memory of the event. Some people even suppressed the horrible memories to the point it was as if the events never even happened. The easiest term we always used for memory suppression is _forget_.”

Yifan frowns. “No. That can’t be. There’s no way that we can erase some specific memory, like having an automatic system that immediately eliminates memory once they start to have negative effects on us. As much as it takes more effort for the brain to forget, it also takes much more courage, more than just imagination and desire, to purposely do it.”

“Yes, Yifan,” Yixing offers him a soft, yet warm smile, “it would also take a series of _horrible events_ for it. Why do you think you’re here, spending money on a procedure just to forget me?”

_Oh_, Yifan looks away, _right_.

“I’m just saying you should make the most out of it before the memories get erased. Extracted. _Detached_. Whatever it’s called.” he watches as Yixing gets on his feet again. “Well, if the memory is already happy enough for you, you can leave it be as well.”

Yixing offers him a hand, and Yifan takes it almost immediately. He stands face to face with his husband. In this memory, Yixing is still his husband, and it’s the biggest factor that makes this memory a happy one.

It’s as if he wants those happy times back.

But of course, the linearity of time forbids it.

“Well,” Yixing speaks again, still holding his hand, “bye.”

Yifan leans back. “Bye?”

“This point should be the end of this memory. Everything around you will start fading into white, including me. I believe you would want to close your eyes.”

“Why?”

Yixing sighs, hands resting gently on Yifan’s shoulders. “Just close your eyes, Fan.”

Something doesn’t sit well in him. The look in Yixing’s eyes only makes him nauseous. Somehow, he’s not ready for everything to fade away like before. For a moment he wants it all to stop, and he doesn’t even know why, because there, in front of him, stands the man who has hurt him so, so severely to the point where he couldn’t even function properly from day to day, but he doesn’t want the man to disappear forever from his life. Even with the amount of rage inside him, even when he has all the right to, he still can’t hate the man properly.

He’s back to zero; where he couldn’t let go.

“But,” he croaks out, “but I want to see you.”

“You do?”

“I’ve missed you.” Yifan nods slowly, voice breaking. “I’ve missed you so… so much.”

Yixing smiles gently, and it makes Yifan start to notice that Yixing really does, or did, smile a lot. Despite the rainy clouds inside him, Yixing always managed to put a smile on his own face and bring the same brightness to everyone around him.

How he misses that smile wholeheartedly.

“You miss me like this.” Yixing says in a rather hushed voice. “You miss this version of me. The Yixing who’s still your husband, still laughing with you.”

Yifan shakes his head. _No. No. I miss you. Can’t you see?_

“But you also miss me. You miss Zhang Yixing as a whole. I can see it.”

He misses Zhang Yixing.

He went through so many days of anger and nights of resentment, but in the end, he just misses his beloved so much.

“Now close your eyes.”

“No. Please -”

“I’m about to kiss you, Fan. Close your pretty eyes.”

Yifan frowns, but he immediately obliges when Yixing gently pulls his upper body down, closer to him. Their lips meet halfway, and his breath hitches the moment he finally realizes that Yixing is kissing him. Soft, plump lips pressing against his own. This is something that never happened in reality, in the days of their marriage, or before that. They had hugged each other to sleep, cuddled on the couch across the TV, fed each other even when they both were capable of eating on their own, and the most intimate thing they ever did was Yifan kissing Yixing’s forehead, but they never got this far.

That’s why there are thousands of fireworks blazing, soaring inside him, when Yixing puts a little bit more pressure onto his lips.

But the sensation doesn’t last long, for in the next moment, he loses his footing and everything goes silent once more.

===

“Second section done. Preparing for the third.”

“Phew, I really thought something was wrong.”

Dr. Doh immediately glances at another monitor attached to the machine. It shows the neuroimaging of Yifan’s brain and allows him to know Yifan’s emotional state. “Write the event down, Jaehyun.”

“On it, Doc.” Jaehyun immediately starts typing on the keyboard of his laptop. “10.43 AM. A gradual yet significant spike of brain activity. Temporary assumption is client experienced a difficulty in the engagement with his memory, probable cause is either client’s eidetic memory or client’s strong attachment with his memories.”

“Doc.”

Dr. Doh turns to Sooyoung, who had called for him. “Yes?”

“I suddenly remember about this case I’ve read once from the archive. The journals about the experiments. I hope it’s not the wrong time to bring it up.”

“What case?”

“About subject AM-D12. He was one of the subjects who experienced a bizarre situation while being under Memorasure. The person he interacted with in his memory gained awareness of what was actually going on. Well, technically, it was his own memory, so it was safe to say that he had altered with it.”

“Manual Alteration.” Dr. Doh sighs. “I know where you’re going with this.”

“It also started with a sudden spike of brain activity. I’ve assisted you in so many procedures, Doc, and I’m brave to say that emotional struggles from the client’s side wouldn’t have caused that much rise on the graphic line.” Sooyoung points at the monitor on the machine. “I’m not saying that I’m sure about this, but let’s say that there’s a possibility this client is experiencing Manual Alteration. What are we going to do?”

“Uhm,” Jaehyun’s voice makes the both of them turn at him, “please… enlighten me?”

“Manual Alteration means that the subject is altering their own memory. They can change the plot, change the surroundings, change the conversations, change the outcome.” Sooyoung pauses to look at Dr. Doh’s face. “It’s not really considered a problem, though, because in the end, the section would still be erased. After all, the altered events would not create new memories, since memories could only be made from reality.”

  
“Then what is the problem?”

“Technically nothing.” Dr. Doh adds in. “We only need to make sure that the spike in brain activity won’t cause harm to client’s health.”

Sooyoung is about to say something, but she stays silent when her eyes meet Dr. Doh’s.

“I see you’ve taken an interest in the case about AM-D12. But don’t worry.” Dr. Doh gets back to the machine. “It was just a failed experiment that didn’t even cause any harm. It was notable, but it wasn’t a significant problem. The other subjects that experienced Manual Alteration successfully went through the procedure.”

The room is silent for a moment. Both Jaehyun and Sooyoung are back on their own monitors, but Dr. Doh knows they’re not focused on anything in them; they’re still wondering about the topic.

“Let’s just focus on Mr. Wu over here. Let’s start with the third section.”

===

He’s outside again, and it’s raining.

He’s standing under a canopy, on a spacious outer lobby area. He recognizes the tiles; it’s the office building of the company he’s working at. It’s his workplace. The gloomy shades of gray in the sky makes it difficult to tell the time, but judging by how he’s already wearing his jacket and the straps of his backpack are already secured on his shoulders, it should mean that it’s his off time already.

And he has no umbrella.

He stretches out a hand and lets droplets of water fall on his palm. The temperature soothes the heat on his skin. If he’s not wrong - because he had replayed this memory for too many times it would’ve been broken if it was a tape -, Yixing should be here any minute.

He turns to his left as he lowers his hand, and there he is. The love of his life. Scuffed black Converse sneakers, tattered blue jeans, white tee beneath red-green checkered shirt. And as the cherry on top, a big and obnoxiously bright yellow umbrella. That goddamn igly umbrella. That was the start of everything.

Yixing halts his steps right in front of him. Umbrella casted aside, Yixing finally reveals his face, sheepish grin adorning his lips with two dimples on each cheek accompanying it. “Your savior is here.” delicate, melodious voice then follows, flowing from his lovely pair of plump lips.

Or was it the melodious voice that had started it all instead?

Yifan takes his sweet time to take a look at Yixing. To bask in the warmth that Yixing radiates. To cherish the gentle look in Yixing’s eyes, the innocence Yixing’s beautiful face holds, even the way Yixing’s hair is ruffled. He wants to cherish it all since he didn’t get to do it for one last time back then, when his eyes were clouded with rage.

How did he spend more than a year believing that such a beautiful person was meant for him?

“How did you know…?”

“It rained since, like, half an hour ago.” Yixing rolls his eyes. “And you never takes your umbrella with you, so.”

“Well,” Yifan lowers his gaze over the ground, “I didn’t expect it would rain today.” _I didn’t expect you to leave me._

“The monsoon season has started, _honey_.”

_Oh. Dumb me. I never knew anything._

He notices the umbrella being handed to him. If it’s going as what he remembers, he would take it, and they would talk about having hotpot for dinner, and he would pull Yixing against him with one arm, and they would fight the rain together as they walk to the bus stop.

But that was when he didn’t have any idea that he should’ve done more than just a one arm hug, because months later, Yixing would leave him.

So right now, when his mind reminds him that everything about this would fade into white and disappear forever, he takes a step forward and wordlessly pulls Yixing in. He wraps his arms around Yixing’s torso and buries his face onto somewhere around the valley of Yixing’s neck. He hears the sound of the umbrella hitting the ground, and then Yixing is hugging him, slipping his hands between his back and his backpack.

“Fan?” Yixing calls in a whisper. And the voice, the single word, opens a dam of his tears.

“I’ve missed you.” Yifan murmurs. For a moment he doubts Yixing could hear it.

“You did?” Yixing replies, voice still as gentle and warm as ever. “But you just saw me this morning.”

Yifan shakes his head. “That’s not how it works now, right?”

“... yeah.”

He tightens his hold around Yixing’s figure, eliciting a chuckle from the man in his arms. His eyes are still burning, his chest is heavy, and he’s almost sure he’ll fall on his knees if Yixing ever steps back and release him.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Yixing then asks, voice muffled against the fabric of his jacket.

“You wouldn’t want to hear them.”

“Try me.”

“I… I just… I’ve been so, so tired.” he still doesn’t let go of Yixing. “I’ve been so tired of being sad. Being angry. Wondering why couldn’t I live the way I used to - I always knew the answer, though. I’m tired of thinking of you only to end up feeling worse than before. I’m tired, I’m so, _so _tired of missing you and beating myself up for it. Of hating everything, including myself. Feeling so out of place. Not recognizing the world I’ve been living in, and even myself.”

“Easy, Fan, easy.”

“I’m tired of being in pain.” he finally breaks down, the silent cry exploding into loud, ugly cry. “I’m tired. I’m tired.”

He feels Yixing’s hand gently rubbing his back up and down, bringing him comfort in the middle of the storm raging inside him. “And it’s all because of me. You’ve been hurting because of me.”

“I don’t… I don’t know anymore.” he admits brokenly, more to himself.

Maybe it was never Yixing who had hurt him. Maybe it was always him who hurt himself, through the decisions he made and the choices he took.

Maybe it was always him who brought himself misfortune. And he just blamed everybody else for it.

“It has to be me.” Yixing says. “If not, you wouldn’t have come this far to erase me.”

The words only cause more tears to fall.

“If only you never met me, you wouldn’t have gone through _that_. Might as well regret ever knowing me.”

“No -”

“You’re erasing me because you thought of that, Yifan. It’s alright. I agree. Well, I’m a part of your mind, so of course I do.” Yixing stifles a bittersweet laugh. “Such a shame, though. You, crying in your favorite memory about me.”

He finally lifts his head from Yixing’s neck and leans back, giving some space between them, with arms still wrapped around Yixing’s torso. “How do you know this is my favorite…” his voice trails off as realization hits him, “... oh. Yeah. A part of my mind.”

“Why, though? What is it about this one that made you fancy it the most?”

“You should know that too.” he says, wiping the tear stains on his face while trying to clear his blocked nose by inhaling excessively. Yixing helps him with cleaning his cheeks. It only makes him feel helpless. And it’s so much worse when Yixing is looking up at him affectionately and handling him with such care.

“Well, you never really pointed out to yourself why you like it a lot.” Yixing smiles at him. “Tell me tell me tell me.”

Why is this memory his favorite? Yifan can’t think of any suitable reason for it right away. He lifts his gaze up towards the gloomy sky, over the water drops, then back at Yixing again. Is there any particular reason to why something is our favorite? Favoriting one thing doesn’t mean despising its other kinds. Then why do we like this one thing when there are several things similar to it, when their differences aren’t even significant enough to affect the value they offer us?

But then again, Yifan tends to overthink, always circles around the main point when it’s already standing there in its glory. He weighs up too much variables, skeptical every now and then. He decides to think of the reason simply and bluntly, and there he has the answer.

He finally lets out, in a hushed manner. “This was the day when I felt loved by you the most.”

Yixing blinks up at him, then soon enough, the right corner of his lips curl up.

“You… you went out, in the rain, took the bus here, just to pick me up and take me home, because I didn’t bring my umbrella.” Yifan feels his eyes burning up again, and his heart swelling with fondness over the reminiscence. “And I thought to myself, ah, he’s trying. He’s keeping his promise. He’s really trying to love me. I’m really going to be loved by him.”

_‘Shall we go, then? I’m starving.’_

_‘Well, good for you, because we’re having hotpot.’_

Back then, he had wrapped his left arm around Yixing’s shoulder to pull the said man closer to him. And Yixing, with no hesitation, did the very same to him, an arm around his torso, securing his place tightly. Back then, he had an amused looking Yixing in his arms, and in that moment, Yixing had looked happy. Genuinely happy.

_‘Hotpot? Then we have to hurry!’_

_‘Why is it so easy to excite you, hm?’_

Back then, even something as simple as dinner had thrilled him, because it was Yixing he was having dinner with. Just a simple dinner back at home. But it was such a precious occasion for Yifan, because he was doing it with the love of his life. Because it was Yixing who had prepared everything for him. Because it all made him think, made him believe that Yixing really was trying, that he finally had the chance to be the only one for his only one.

And when Yixing laughed wholeheartedly next to him, he really started to believe that Yixing was at last willing to love him back.

“But you never did.” he forces the words out of his mouth. They taste like sand on his tongue. “You never started to look at me. You never started to love me. You never did, you never could.

Because all that you saw was someone who was never even there for you.

All that you saw was _him_.”

Kim Junmyeon.

A smart and friendly man, he was. The representative of their class for 3 years of college. Graduated the earliest among their circle. Everybody liked him. The type of person who could get along with anyone possible. Had a bright future ahead of him.

And it just happened that Kim Junmyeon is also the man Yifan loathes the most in this world. Never, in his whole life, had he ever hated someone the way he hates Kim Junmyeon.

But why? Why would he hate someone so kind and likeable like Kim Junmyeon?

Was it just because Yixing was in love with Junmyeon throughout their college years?

Was it really just because Yixing never turned his heart away from Junmyeon even after they were married, although he already knew it would happen? Although he had sworn to himself he would be as patient as he could about it? Because there was no way he could ever force or even help Yixing to forget Junmyeon.

Or was it because of _something_ that Junmyeon had done?

“What is wrong with me, Xing? What’s so wrong with me that I can’t be loved?”

He stares into Yixing’s eyes. They look calm, patient, caring. Those eyes had deceived him for so many times. They fooled him into thinking that he had hopes.

“I loved you so, so much, Xing. I still do. God, I still love you. After all of that. But why? Why is it that I was never loved back?”

His lips tremble. It’s probably the cold, it could also be the storm inside him. Then he feels a thumb caressing his bottom lip; of course it’s Yixing’s. See? This kind of gesture, this kind of thing, these were the illusions that had made a fool out of him.

“Why? Why can’t I be loved?” he whispers. “What did I do wrong?”

A soft chuckle leaves Yixing’s lips. “_Honey_,” his knuckles then caress the left side of Yifan’s face, “did you love me because you wanted to be loved back? Wasn’t it because, as you’ve told me once, you just loved me?”

_‘You only need to acknowledge my love, and let me love you.’_

_‘You don’t have to love me back.’_

Something sinks inside him.

“Of course, deep down, everybody longs for reciprocation. For the amount they give, they want to take as much too. Plausibly, as time passes, as they grow even stronger feelings and commit even more, they tend to end up prioritizing loving over being loved. However, you,” Yixing sighs as he tilts his head, “you only wanted to love. You sought giving, because the amount of love inside you was brimming to the edge of the cup with no one to drink it. And there I came, and you saw the chance in me. You swore, most to yourself, to do all the loving.”

_‘Just… let me love you. I’ll do all the loving.’_

_‘My love is enough for the both of us.’_

“But deep, deep inside, you wanted to be loved back, didn’t you? It’s not just about me not loving you back anymore. It’s about you, not being loved by the person you love. And you started to wonder if you’re even worthy of being loved. You wondered whether it was your karma, for breaking up with your doting ex back in senior year of high school because you grew tired of his attention and affection in _two weeks_ \- you still feel awful about it. The theory was quite persuasive, until you realized that the whole case of you not being loved back started way before that, back in your middle school days, when you met your first love, whom you never really forgot for ten years until you met me. After rejections and guilt, after that amount of heartbreak and mistrust in your own heart, you began wondering if you ever deserved being loved.

You wanted to be loved back. You were skeptical about it, you felt undeserving, but you wanted it. If not so bad.

You wanted _me_ to love you back.”

It’s true.

It’s not the point, it’s not the reason why he’s doing this, not the reason why it had hurt, but it’s true.

Because if only, _if only_, Yixing had loved him back, then maybe none of this would’ve happened, none of them would’ve had to go through all of the troubles and sufferings, for Yixing wouldn’t have -

“Is that wrong?” he asks, voice cracking at the last syllable.

Yixing stifles a laugh, warmth oozing from his eyes and the palm of his hand against his cheek. “Fan, everybody deserves to be loved back. To have their feelings reciprocated. Including you.” the hand then rests on his shoulder. “It’s just that you’re in love with someone who is incapable of loving you back. Just a bad luck. Really.”

“But you… you’re _the love of my life_.” Yifan shakes his head. “You can’t be a bad luck.”

In a matter of seconds, Yixing bursts into a hearty laughter. It somehow soothes the burning wound in his chest. Yixing’s laugh was always infectious - or it was just him who always aspired to see the crinkles at the corner of Yixing’s eyes whenever he grinned. “Did I really taint you with those rom com TV series? You really should start rewatching Sherlock to cleanse your brain.”

“Xing,” he cuts and waits until he gets Yixing’s attention, “did you ever… think about loving me?”

“Oh, Fan, you know I can’t answer that.” Yixing smiles apologetically. “I only know what you know, remember?”

Yifan lets out a long, heavy sigh. “I know. Just wanted to let that out.”

“But since this is your memory, you can have your answer the way you want, right?” Yixing smirks. “Although I doubt you’d do it to such extent because you’re done fooling yourself.”

Chuckling in disbelief, Yifan brings up a hand to gently cup Yixing’s chin. “Let’s say you did.” he says.

Yixing agrees with a slight nod. “Let’s say I did.” he hums. “Who knows? Maybe I did.”

Something inside him breaks, curls, weeps, because he realizes that he’s never going to get an answer. Because after this, he won’t even remember ever thinking of the question.

“Oh, look, time’s up.”

True to Yixing’s words, the colors of his surroundings are starting to fade. “No,” he murmurs, “no, not yet -”

“What’s wrong?” Yixing raises an eyebrow. “Everything’s going well.”

“I don’t - I don’t want to lose you yet!”

Yixing frowns slightly. “There are still a couple of memories left, Fan. You should panic later.” he giggles.

“What if I don’t want you to go completely?” Yifan pleads. “What if I regret doing this?”

“Oh, my. Of course. You ran away twice before actually doing this. What did I expect?” Yixing rolls his eyes before giggling again. “There is no way back, Yifan. Even if you can stop the procedure, a big chunk of your memories about me would already be lifted.”

“But there’ll still be some left. Anything that I can keep.” Yifan leans forward, resting his forehead against Yixing’s. “Is that even possible?”

Yixing shrugs. “Is that? I don’t know what you don’t know, honey. But you’re not actually going to think of that seriously, right?”

“I…” Yifan closes his eyes, “I don’t know.”

He feels warmth on both of his cheeks. It’s from the softness of the palms of Yixing’s hands. “Just bask it all in.” he hears Yixing’s whisper. “No need to be scared of letting me go.

In the end, you won’t even remember ever saying goodbye.”

===

Eyebrows knitted in mild chagrin, Dr. Doh keeps staring at the monitor in front of him. The brain activity is even higher this time. Something isn’t necessarily wrong, and the chance of the outcome being jeopardized is low to none, but it still irks him. There’s a hint of acrimony in the back of his mind, although he doesn’t know what it is supposed to warn him about.

“Third section is done. About fifty perfect of the sections are ready for erasure. We can start on the fourth section in a moment, Doc.”

“Good.” Dr. Doh nods at Sooyoung. “Let’s proceed.”

Jaehyun then raises his hand. “Doc, may I…?” his assistant waits until he pays attention to him. “What happened to AM-D12?”

The room goes silent. Dr. Doh feels Sooyoung’s burning stare on his head.

“I thought I’ve told you, we shall focus on our client at this moment.”

“I’m… curious.” Jaehyun smiles sheepishly. “Sorry, Doc.”

Dr. Doh leans against the backrest of his chair, arms crossed against his chest. “Sooyoung, you’ve read the file.” he waits until his female assistant nods in acknowledgment. “What intrigued you so much that you brought it up?”

Sooyoung is silent for a moment before she answers. “Just the similarity to the symptoms, Doc. I was reminded of the case when I saw the spike of Mr. Wu’s brain activity. I only half expected that I was right about the signs of Manual Alteration.”

When she doesn’t speak anymore, Dr. Doh raises an eyebrow.

It makes Sooyoung finally give in. “AM-D12 experienced Sidetracking.” she gulps down. “It wasn’t fully disclosed in the file, what actually happened in the end. But I reread the chain of events, and I assumed that something must’ve gone wrong, even just for a little.”

“Sidetracking?” Jaehyun inquires.

“It’s when subject’s consciousness doesn’t follow the machine’s guideline. In a simpler way to say, it jumps to another memory through another link instead of the one we assign it to.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Yes, if the subject is fully aware that their consciousness has the ability to. It’s as simple as changing our thoughts, after all. One moment you’re recalling something, the next thing you’re thinking of another matter.” Dr. Doh fixes his glasses on the bridge of his nose out of habit. “It’s all possible as long as the section hasn’t been erased completely. It’s like hopping on a bus when the doors are still open.”

“Is it… possible to happen to our client?”

Dr. Doh takes a moment for himself to think. “The experiment subject was one hundred percent aware of their state under the machine, which allowed them to alter their memories to such extent.” he elaborates. “Our clients, however, have a much lower level of awareness. We made sure of that through our careful explanation about the procedure. It’s technically possible, but it has very low chance to happen.”

There’s another moment of silence in the room, until Jaehyun speaks again. “What are the consequences, Doc?”

“Could it be that some memories might get left behind?” Sooyoung adds.

_Could it be?_

“It could be, technically. Sidetracking amplifies the rate of subject’s brain activity, and it could result in subject waking up, cutting the process.” Dr. Doh shrugs. “But that’s why we’re putting more effort than usual today, right?”

Sooyoung sighs in defeat, while Jaehyun chuckles as he gets back on his monitor. “Shall we start the fourth section, Doc?”

“Right. Let’s start it.”

===

He immediately recognizes the surroundings.

It’s his old apartment - by the time he’s finished with the procedure, he’ll wake up there as if he never left the place. It’s night time, and the room is dimly lit. He’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, and in front of him is none other than Yixing, curled up on the other side, clad in mint colored sweater and white sweatpants, head half sinking onto the pillow. There’s a thick mellowness in his eyes, and Yifan can pinpoint which memory is this.

It was the night he proposed to Yixing.

Any moment now, he would simply tell Yixing ‘_let’s get married_’. No pep talk, no chit chat whatsoever. It would also be his chance to properly tell Yixing that he loves him. Where did he even get that amount of courage from? Was he possessed? That night seems like a ridiculous dream now.

This man in front of him, this Zhang Yixing, he doesn’t love him. He never loved him. Maybe he cared for him, maybe he cherished the relationship they had and the fondness they shared with each other, but he never loved him. Yifan lived for more than a year fooling himself that he saw some sparks of love in Yixing’s eyes from time to time, but truthfully, nothing was ever there. Being in love so deep made him imagine things.

Yixing never loved him. Then why? Why did Yixing even agree to marry him?

“Why did you say yes?” he breathes out.

It’s silent in his spacious apartment, which makes his words echo across the space, woeful and poignant. He watches as Yixing looks up at him, perplexed, alarmed. But a moment later, the gaze softens. Nothing comes out of his lips.

“Was it because I asked nicely?”

Yixing stifles a chuckle.

“Did I look too pitiful that you didn’t have the heart to reject me?”

“Fan,” Yixing warns softly.

“You could’ve said no. I wouldn’t have forced you. I convinced you to marry me only because you kept telling me you weren’t good enough. But if you had told me that you simply didn’t want me as a husband, I would’ve backed out. I would’ve put it past us. And I would never, ever leave you just because you rejected me.” Yifan shifts on the navy sheets. “Why did you agree to marry me?”

Yixing shifts his face away from the pillow and slips a hand beneath to prop his head up. “Do you regret it now? Marrying me.”

He stares into Yixing’s eyes, basking in the sereneness swirling in the orbs. Why is he always the only one on painful fire while Yixing watches him burn every time?

‘_What if… what if one day you wake up… and regret all of it?_’

Back then, in that moment that Yixing had asked him, Yifan took a moment to actually think of it. Would he ever regret doing this? Would he ever regret giving out all of him for someone who wouldn’t do the same? But nothing came into his mind, because it wasn’t what he was looking for. He wasn’t looking for reciprocation.

Back then, he just wanted to love. But now, all he wants is to be _not_ in pain.

“I do.” he answers. There are no collateral consequences to his honesty here.

“Do you regret loving me too?”

As if he was asked an offensive question, Yifan’s eyebrows knit slightly as he shakes his head. “Never.”

“Are you sure?” Yixing’s gaze shifts towards the ceiling. “You’ve gotten yourself into this mess because you love me, though.”

Yifan can’t think of anything to reply to that, and it irritates him.

“Turns out that love was never good enough as a reason, wasn’t it? You went to such lengths for someone who could never give you back what you gave them, of course it would take a toll on you eventually. You got cuts on your hands by gathering my pieces, and one day you ran out of bandages to aid yourself. You’ve wasted so many tissues for my tears and got your shoulders sore by letting my head rest on them. You’ve seen me at my lowest, most insane state, so you thought nothing could ever surprise you anymore, but in the end I turned out to be the worst person someone would ever consider to marry, didn’t I?

You’re already regretting ever marrying me. Don’t you regret ever loving me as well?”

The idea is quite logical. If he never loved Yixing, then he would never be caught in this mess. If only he had loved someone who could love him back, who could look only at him. That’s the law of causality; all actions are caused by entities. The nature of an action is caused and determined by the nature of the entities that act. Everything happens for a reason; nothing is coincidental or causeless, because the universe is rarely ever so lazy.

But does he regret it? Does he regret falling in love with Yixing? Does he regret ever meeting Yixing in the first place?

“Yeah.” he whispers. “I don’t.” His voice was small, but the words were firm.

He had expected to see mild surprise on Yixing’s face, but when Yixing’s face stays poised, he’s reminded that he’s technically talking to his own mind. Nothing surprises him anymore, for he had already known it deep inside him. Months of denial might had pressed it too far down, but it’s always been there.

“You know,” Yixing finally speaks, “you once said you’d rather choke than leave me.”

Yifan sighs heavily. “Thank goodness you were the one who left.”

Yixing titters, throwing his head back. He then gathers his composure and gestures Yifan to lay down on the bed with him. Of course Yifan abides; he always abides to Yixing’s words. “You also once said, that I only needed to acknowledge your love, and let you love me. You said you’ll do all the loving, because your love was enough for the both of us.”

‘_You don’t have to love me back. Just… let me love you._’

“And you told me I was crazy, and I couldn’t do that to myself.” Yifan whispers, head sinking into the pillow, left hand reaching up so his knuckles could caress the apple of Yixing’s cheek. “Look where I am now. Did that to myself, now I’m crazy.”

“But then you told me,” Yixing mimics the way he whispered, “it’s not crazy to love someone.” A warm, delicate smile spreads across his face. “So thank you, for letting yourself love me.”

There’s genuinity in Yixing’s eyes, and Yifan asks himself all over again if it’s really _not_ Yixing he’s talking to, because only Heavens know how much he wants to hear those words directly from Yixing’s lips.

But again, when did he ever get what he wanted anyway?

“Do you think you ever tried to love me?” Yifan asks instead.

Yixing shrugs slightly. “What if I did try?” he rests a hand upon Yifan’s on his face. “Maybe I did try.”

Yifan nods. “Maybe you did.”

“Maybe I did try to open my heart to you.” Yixing’s eyes flutter close. “Maybe I tried to see you. Or maybe I have seen you, all along, and with that, I tried to love you. Because all that you did for me was so big and meaningful, I would’ve been a blind fool if I missed them.”

That would be delightful for him. It’s great if Yixing was able to see just how much he had loved him. “But what if,” Yifan croaks out, “what if it was me who was the blind fool, for not seeing how much you’ve tried?”

Maybe Yixing had tried with all his might. Accepting his love was already a huge step for Yixing, after all. Being married to him was another one. Living with him was the real challenge, for every morning, Yixing had to wake up with someone he didn’t love.

But what if Yixing had done more than just accepting his love? What if Yixing, at some point, told himself ‘_fuck it, I’m going to love the man who loves me_’, and that was where Yixing started to be so sweet to him? Yixing always made him breakfast whenever he could. Yixing took the time to learn how to cook his favorite Korean food and the ones from their homeland - and actually succeeded in it. There was a time when Yixing didn’t go to his studio for three days because he fell sick and had to work from home, even doing all the typing and writing for him so he could use the few energy he had only to think. Yixing also started to address him by ‘_my husband_’ in public on the third month of their marriage and never failed to do it everyday afterwards. Yixing always boasted about him in front of his friends whenever he visited the studio to bring food. Never, for once, did Yixing ever fail to inform him about his whereabouts. Yixing respected him as his partner so much.

That time when Yixing fought the rain to pick him up from work because he didn’t bring an umbrella. It was the moment he felt he was loved by Yixing the most. But what if Yixing had loved him in many other moments, in his own pace and way? What if Yixing really tried with all his might to love him?

What if it was him who had been blind, who wasn’t patient enough?

What if it was him who had let his anger fill his mind with dark clouds that he couldn’t see past Yixing’s _one_ mistake and be the better person between the both of them?

“What if… what if I… was the one who tore us apart?” Yifan says it out loud, and the sinking feeling returns in his abdomen. “Maybe I shouldn’t have done all that… that shit, of being angry, of screaming and -”

‘_You might as well just fucking kill me, Zhang Yixing!_’

‘_Why?! Oh God - why did you have to do that?!_’

‘_What did I do so fucking wrong that you shit on me like this?!_’

‘_Look at me! Look at me! It’s me! I’m the one who fucking loves you! Why can’t you look at me?!_’

“I shouldn’t have…” he lets out shakily, eyes burning up out of sudden, “huh?”

His sight eventually gets blurry, but he can still see Yixing shaking his head slightly. “I did something bad. You reacted to it. You’re only human, Yifan. It could’ve been my defense, but it could be yours too.”

“I just… wanted to be happy... with you, Xing. I just wanted to make you happy, and make myself happy by that.”

“But it never worked, hm? My happiness was never yours. We can never depend our happiness on someone else’s. Most of the time, someone has to suffer to make their loved ones happy.” Yixing sighs, hand leaving his to rest on the tuft of his hair. “Poor you. I’m so sorry you had to love me.”

‘_I’m so sorry you had to love me._’

‘_Ouch, don’t be sorry for being loved._’

Yifan uses his free hand to wipe the tears away from his eyes. “I’m sorry for making this memory not happy anymore.” he murmurs. “I should’ve just… stuck with the scenario.”

“Yeah, it feels stuffy now because you decided to talk about heavy things.” Yixing snorts. “But hey, if you hate how sad this has gotten, maybe you can leave for a happier memory.”

Yifan blinks at him rapidly for a second. “Leave?”

“Hm-hm! Like, you know those moments when we are in the middle of thinking of something, then suddenly we recall another thing? It’s technically like that. After all, your memories are interconnected with each other, which means there are doors that lead from one memory to another. Which also means you can leave this memory for another one, just like going from this bedroom to the hall outside. Right?”

“Really? I…” Yifan frowns, “I can do that?”

“Well, it sounds plausible to me.” Yixing smirks. “You should go, I guess. For the happy memories. Make them happier, maybe? Because you’re never going to see them again, even if your mind.”

The weight in his chest gets heavier. Once again, it’s so easy for Yixing to let him go. He’s always the only one holding onto the anchor so desperately.

“I’ll just stay.” he settles. “I’ll still go to another memory after this anyway. I’ll just stay until it’s done.”

“Oh? You’re so obedient to this procedure.”

“That’s all I can do after all. Unless I can stop it.”

“Why would you want to stop it?”

Yifan looks into Yixing’s eyes for a moment before he closes his own. “I never really wanted to forget you.” he confesses. “I just thought that by forgetting you completely, it would erase the pain. But maybe I never really wanted it. Maybe I just felt I needed to do it - or else I’d go insane for real. And now… now I regret it.”

He regrets it. Forgetting Yixing. Because it means he’s erasing his feelings, the love he had felt, and by the procedure is finished, he would be a shell of an empty soul that never felt a love so deep and genuine like this. It means he’s never going to remember or just think of Yixing, when it was a part of his daily life for half a decade. It means he’s erasing a part of himself. Maybe a major part.

Maybe half of him, maybe even more.

“Well, you can, I guess. Stop it.”

He jerks his eyes open.

“You’re technically dreaming, aren’t you?” Yixing taps the tip of his nose with his index finger. “How do you stop dreaming?”

“... by waking up.”

Yixing nods. “Maybe that’s what you should do…?”

“How do I even do that?”

“Hmm…” Yixing’s index finger is now tracing the tip of his bottom lip, “you know, those times when you wake up involuntarily while dreaming? In the middle of the night, or maybe like at 3 AM in the morning.”

Yifan wants to tell Yixing about those times he woke up at ungodly hours in the middle of dreaming about him - and how he woke up in tears most of the time. He also wants to tell about how there weren’t much choices for him for the last six months; it was either not sleeping, or dreaming of him and waking up crying after. But in the end he just nods.

“It could be because your heartbeat gets so slow that the oxygen produced isn’t enough for your brain, and then it alerts you about it. That, and it could also be the otherwise; your brain activity spikes up, causing your heart to beat so fast it races, knocking you out of your slumber state. Maybe you can try the latter? Making your heart beat so fast it wakes you up.”

“Then how do I make my heart beat fast?”

“Nightmares, I suppose? Your heart races when you’re scared.”

He chuckles in disbelief as Yixing giggles mischievously. He tries to recall the times when his heart raced inside his ribcage. It leads to those days with Yixing, all over again. To that time when Yixing first smiled at him. When Yixing waved at him from the other end of the hall. When Yixing’s face was only a few inches away from his as they studied together in the library. When he confessed to Yixing and asked Yixing’s hand in marriage at the same night. When Yixing became his husband by law. When he woke up next to Yixing for the very first time - and fell asleep in his arm at the same day. When he first cooked for Yixing and his husband had liked it so much. When he first brought breakfast packed by Yixing to work. When Yixing picked him up with an umbrella because he didn’t bring one. Whenever they played on the condominium building’s garden every time it rained and they were home. In those times, his heart had raced so fast, out of happiness.

“Happy.” he whispers. “Being too happy makes the heart races too.”

Yixing nods slightly, eyes fixed on him. “Being too happy. Excitement. It’s the excitement.”

“Then maybe you were right. I should make the happy memories even happier. Maybe I’d be so excited I’d wake myself up.”

They stay still for a moment, before he shrieks in shock because Yixing suddenly props himself up. “Why ‘maybe’?” he muses. “Why don’t we just, you know, _do it_?”

“Do what?”

“Make you very excited!” Yixing pulls the blanket and pushes it away from the both of them. “And make your heart race so fast.”

Yifan frowns, slowly sitting up to match Yixing’s eye level. “And then I’d wake up…?”

“Well, we’re not a hundred percent sure about that, but,” Yixing’s voice trails off, “isn’t that what you want?”

_Do I want to wake up?_

His eyes lock themselves with Yixing’s. In those orbs, he sees so many things he could’ve done to make everything between him and his ex-husband at least a little bit better. He sees the bitter truth; he had contributed a fair share in their destruction. If only he decided to be the bigger person between them, if only he hadn’t let his rage take over, if only he wasn’t so burnt with the imagination of _those filthy hands touching Yixing’s_ -

“Then let’s go.” he gulps down, almost choking on his own. “Let’s do it. Let’s go.”

“For real?” Yixing’s eyes widen. “Oh man, this is going to be fun!”

“Where do we start?” Yifan jumps off the bed, slippers long forgotten as he circles the bed to reach his hand out to Yixing. “How… how do we start?”

Yixing takes his hand and gets off the bed as well, standing right in front of him. His head then tilts towards the direction behind him. “The door, I suppose?”

Hands still attached to Yixing’s, Yifan inhales and exhales sharply. “You ready?”

“Are you?”

They share a giggle before Yifan turns on his heels and start to walk towards the front door, pulling Yixing behind him. He stops right before the door, hand hovering above the handle. Is he really doing this? Is he really going to try to stop the whole procedure, to save what’s left of his memories of Yixing? Oh, Heavens, he really _is_ doing this.

“To not forgetting you.” he announces.

He feels Yixing’s hand squeezing his gently.

“To not forgetting me!”

With the sound of Yixing’s stifled giggle behind him, he opens the door.

===

“No way in hell.”

“What’s happening? Is that even possible?”

Dr. Doh’s eyes are stuck on the monitor in front of him. Dryness kicks in along his throat. The twinkling red dot, Yifan’s consciousness, is now moving towards a small section of memory, one he didn’t plan for it to be in.

It’s happening.

_It’s happening_.

“So,” Sooyoung’s voice comes from his right, “Sidetracking?”

Dr. Doh exhales heavily. Something creeps across his skin. A subtle premonition. Something would likely go south if he isn't cautious enough after this.

His eyes drift for a moment and fall on the figure on the bed.

_Not you too, Mr. Wu._

* * *


	4. Nimbo

**Saturday, December 22, 2018**

Hey hensom ;-)

Why u texting :3

We’re going oldschool today. Miss

college days. Will u be home early?

Made mapo tofu ;-)

WUT?? THANK GOD I DONT

HAVE MORE SESSIONS AFTER

THIS ASDFGHJKL IM FLYING

HOME

Oww angel, Showing off your

wings huh? Pretty thing <3

WAIT 4 ME

**Wednesday, July 17, 2019**

Dumbass u 4got ur umbrella again

Did I? Hmm.

U did that so id pick u up again huh

Of course. What else? :)

Gotta stay late tonite tho :(

Then I’ll pick u up.

Rrrrrrrreeeeeaaaaaalllyyyyyyyy??

Burgers? Sandwich? Kimbap?

KIMBAP KIMBAP KIMBAP

Stoopid Baekhyun wants cheese-

burger

Now every1 wants cheeseburger

I want cheeseburger too mehehe

Ok Boss Zhang B-)

Ugh u da best DA BEST

**Monday, August 12, 2019**

Xing? Are u gonna be late

tonight? U didn’t call me tho.

Yixing where are u? Is everything

ok?

Yixing you’re making me very

worried now. What’s wrong with

your LINE and Kakao?

Yixing please answer my call.

Fan im so sorry I went out with

Chanyeol n ran out of battery. Will

call u once its on 10%.

Ok.

**Thursday, August 15 2019**

Yixing? Where are you? Don’t scare

me like this again.

Yixing please answer my call.

Club Volnost Seoul 136-1 Itaewon-ro

Yongsan-gu. Please hurry up, your

husband is throwing up in the toilet.

Thank you very much. I’m sorry.

**Tuesday, January 21, 2020**

Hi there. Im sorry for texting u like

this. Just wanna tell u ive sent the

papers this morning. Ive signed

them. When youre done u can send

them back 2 me and ill submit them.

I’ll submit the papers. Don’t bother.

We can submit them together too. If

u want. We can get coffee after. Ive

been wondering about how you been

doing. If thats ok.

Can’t do. Overtime. Sorry.

Ok. Its fine. Good luck.

**Monday, February 3, 2020**

Found it. Call Zitao.

* * *

“I said happy memories, and this is where you brought me to?”

“But this _is_ a happy memory!”

“But we’re just -” Yixing points furiously at the direction in front of him, “we’re just sitting here eating _pizza_?!”

They’re in their condominium, sitting on the space between the coffee table and the couch in the small living space at the corner of the spacious room. On the table is a box of pizza, some slices missing. The TV in front of them is on, its LED light giving Yixing’s face some kind of glowing effect when Yifan’s eyes fall on it again. At this point of memory, of their history, Yixing is still his husband, and he’s still the fool in love.

“But,” he then shifts his gaze to the half slice of pizza in his hand, “pizza always makes me happy.”

Yixing frowns in disbelief.

“Especially when I eat it together with you.”

“Oh _please_. Ew.” Yixing shivers, face scrunching in cringe.

“Look, it’s your favorite topping.” Yifan nods towards the food. He then looks up to see the TV screen. “Hey, you were so into this, remember?”

Yixing glances at the pizza before he blinks in recognition. “Oh! Triple cheese!” he says in awe, hand automatically reaching for a slice. His eyes travel upwards to the TV screen. “Memories Of Alhambra?”

Yifan chuckles in amusement, eyes fixated on the screen. “Gosh you were so pissed off with the ending.”

“I was _what_?”

“You don’t remember?” Yifan frowns. “Well, this memory happened way before… but you also know about the Memorasure, so how come -”

“Time isn’t linear in this matter. Tell me what happened!”

“... you wouldn’t like it.” Yifan smiles, holding back his laughter. “Gosh you were _so_ mad.”

“Okay then just tell me one thing.” Yixing leans in closer with hopeful eyes. “Is Seju still alive?”

Yifan finally bursts into laughter. He then puts the pizza in his hand onto the plate on the coffee table. “Come on.” he says, brushing the pad of his fingers against his pants before offering it for Yixing to take. “Let’s find a more exciting memory.”

“But my pizza,”

“Take it with you!”

Giggling, Yixing takes Yifan’s hand and stands up from the carpet. “What do you have in mind?” he asks as he lets Yifan drag him across the room.

They’re now standing in front of the door. The plan for their next destination gets blurred for a moment, because out of sudden, Yifan is reminded of those times when he would walk through this black polished wooden door, every day and night, when he would leave for work and come back for dinner. There were so many times he walked through this door along with Yixing, bodies pressed together, elbows grazing the frame, with no particular reason why they had to walk through it at the same time when they couldn’t even fit. There were also those nights when Yifan would sit at the dining table so he could get a view of the door, waiting for Yixing to come home, and also when he would open the door and find Yixing waiting instead.

And then there was that day, when he closed this door for one last time, with no plans of walking through it ever again. Because there was no one and nothing to come home to anymore.

“Are you still thinking?” he then hears Yixing’s voice, which takes him back from his reverie. “Let’s go!”

He feels a squeeze around his hand. When he looks down, he finds that Yixing’s fingers are the one wrapping around his instead. It feels warm, it feels real. Maybe he could just live in his own memories forever, existing in his past, because the present time in his reality hasn’t been doing him right. Yifan glances up at Yixing to flash a smile before he uses his free hand to open the door. The almost blinding light welcomes them as they walk out of the room.

What greets them at first is the sound of people’s chatter and distant upbeat music playing, mixed with the faint hum of machines and rubber soles hitting the rocky ground. Soon the view follows, revealing thousands of warm white lights in contrast with the ink black sky above them, and a smile blooms on Yifan’s lips the moment he hears Yixing’s delighted gasp.

“You _didn’t_!”

It’s one summer night where a music festival was held on the empty lot near their residence building. A rather simple yet not so little occasion, because it’s a spacious lot and the organizers have decorated every inch of it with one big stage, a proper sized space for standing, a dozen of food booths, and meters of wired warm white LED lights stretched across the area, like loyal fireflies lighting up the night. Yixing himself has worked with so many huge singers and musicians, being in one of South Korea’s best entertainment companies, and had been involved in so many big scaled events with costly preparations and equipment, but he finds the most joy in small yet meaningful events like this. Local bands giving their best in hyping people up with their music, hopeful faces dreaming of performing on a bigger stage someday. It’s a stage filled with people who put their dreams and the smile on people’s face as their priority, instead of their company’s stockholders and their tight public image. It’s the honesty and innocence that Yixing loves so much.

Yifan remembers how excited Yixing was when they were in the car on their way home and their eyes had caught the glimmering lights from afar. ‘_Let’s go inside!_’ Yixing had chirped when Yifan stopped the car by the sidewalk, a few meters from the entrance to the lot.

‘_Aren’t you tired?_’ Yifan had asked, because both of them had just went through a long day at their respective workplaces, and Yixing himself had looked half dead before he spotted the lights. But then he realizes those lights had manifested themselves in Yixing’s eyes, shining, blinking back at him, and at the next moment Yifan was already parking his car inside the lot, with Yixing immediately hopping off the vehicle the moment Yifan stepped on the brake.

And then, hand in hand just like right now, they had explored the entire area, bought corn dogs and shaved red bean ice, and watched the singers have fun with the voluntary audience.

“Shall we?” Yixing’s voice pulls him out again, and he turns to look at his husband, whose eyes are reflecting the LED lights above them, smile even brighter than the sun. Yifan naturally smiles back, because if Yixing has always been the sun, then he’s been the moon, shining only because the sun had shared its glow with it.

Yifan then releases his hand from Yixing’s hold. “Whoever gets to the standing section last has to buy corn dog!”

“You’ll end up buying no matter what the outcome is.” Yixing snorts, only to gasp when Yifan starts to move without warning. “You jerk!” he shrieks as he runs after Yifan. The path between the booths is filled with echoes of their bubbling giggles as they run along it, swerving left and right to avoid crashing against other people. Yifan glances back every now and then, finding Yixing still running after him. Ah, he remembers now why this night was such a blast for him; it was the only time he ever had Yixing chasing him, being the one running behind him, instead of the other way around.

Of course Yifan arrives first at the standings section in front of the stage, thanks to his long legs and stolen starting point. Yixing stumbles against his back, hands immediately slipping between his torso and arms, gathering him in a loose back hug. Yifan laughs when Yixing curses at him almost breathlessly, taking a hold of Yixing’s hands and pull them gently to tighten the embrace. “You’re still buying.” Yixing managed to say.

“Yes, boss Zhang.” Yifan chuckles fondly. A singer has just climbed up the stage, fixing the mic stand while doing a little speech. The music then starts, 80s beat booming through the speakers, and Yixing immediately shifts to his side. “You having fun?”

Yixing nods at him briefly before he starts swaying his body left and right to the rhythm. “You?” he asks, eyes still locked with the stage.

“You know I have fun by knowing you’re having fun.”

“Then we had fun together.” Yixing grins. “Is that why you chose this memory?”

Yifan doesn’t answer right away, having no particular answer to the question. Why did he bring them here? All he thought of was a memory where they were both happy.

“Why does me, having fun, make you have fun too? How does me being happy makes you happy too? Why does it have something to do with me?”

Now Yixing is looking up at him expectantly, and Yifan loses himself in the pair of orbs in front of him once more.

“Have you ever been happy because of yourself? Why did you depend your happiness on mine so much?”

If he answers ‘_because I love you that much_’, would it be too repetitive and lose its meaning?

“For so long, you’ve never been genuinely happy by yourself.” the warmth from Yixing’s hand circles around his wrist, lingering there before thin fingers slide through his own to intertwine. “In your mind, your ultimate happiness that time would be if - _when_ I love you back. If I was happy because of you. If I was happy with you. That was how you defined your own happiness as. Why? When you’ve achieved so much yourself.”

“Is that so wrong?” Yifan murmurs. “Making you my happiness.”

“Fan, look at the world.” Yixing’s hand then stretches out to point at everything around them. The LED lights, the stage, the people, the night sky above. “It’s so huge, with so many things existing in it. So many things, meaning so many problems and entanglements. Yet you managed to live well despite this world’s way of making everybody’s life complicated. You’re now working in a multinational company that pays you big, just like what you’ve dreamed of. You’ve got friends that look after you. Your parents are much more understanding now than before, because they’ve started trusting you with your own decisions. Everything is going well for you. Then why did you choose to be held back by someone who didn’t even think twice about leaving you?”

Why? Why did he do that? Yifan has never really thought about this before. He never really addressed his ridiculous and painful foolishness. Why did he choose to be held back by someone who immediately ran away the moment he opened the gates? _Why did I? Why did I? Why, the fuck, did I?_

But he thinks, and thinks, and all that comes into his head is another question instead;

“What if the one who left was the one that mattered the most to me?”

Yifan searches into Yixing’s eyes, hoping for some recognition of his feelings, but of course he finds none, for he’s just talking to the part of him who knows and has been tired of how much of a fool he was.

“How did I become the one that mattered the most to you, Fan?” Yixing’s voice echoes loudly, right at the moment the song comes to an end. “Why was I the one who mattered the most?”

Again, this is something he never really sat down and thought through about. And again, he now thinks about it, albeit knowing too well that there really is no point in making sense of everything that he ever felt back then. But how did Yixing become the center of his existence?

“I… I don’t know.” Yifan breaks down the truth. “I don’t know.”

If he’s about to explain it in the laziest way; one morning he woke up and decided to start loving Zhang Yixing.

“I don’t know. Dammit. I wish I do.”

Because there is no particular, exact, justifiable reason for someone to fall in love with another person. One day, they meet the said person, and it would be just like any other daily encounters. Then days and weeks and even months pass, and they get to know the person, and some of the traits, if not almost all, got them interested and even awed. And then that one morning comes naturally, like any other morning, but with a whole new feeling, an epiphany; they’re in love.

And it’s like walking on a single thread of string, and they either make it to the other side, or instead lose balance and fall down into the pit of broken soul and self loathe.

Because the tricky thing about falling in love is you’ll never know whether the other person is falling along with you or you’re just doing a free fall all by yourself.

In Yifan’s case, he lost his balance and fell down, down, down, down, all by himself.

“You know. You just don’t want to admit it.” Yixing says in a rather gentle tone, now that the music is gone.

Something cracks inside his chest, spilling bitterness all over his system.

“So, what’s next? It’s getting boring here.” Yixing points at a small building not too far from the stage. “There’s a door.”

Yifan watches as Yixing takes a hold of his hand. “You…” he mumbles, “you’re not… waiting for me to say it?”

Yixing chuckles at him instead. “You’re not obligated to answer every question, Yifan. Especially ones from yourself. Now,” Yixing tugs at his hand, “where do we go next?”

He keeps forgetting that it’s all just in his head, just fragments of his memories, crafted to his own liking. He keeps forgetting that he won’t get the answers to the questions he had stacked up in the last few years. He’s just going around in circles, pretending that he’s moving on, when in fact he hasn’t even moved an inch from where he had stumbled and never got back up on.

But by the end of this, he wouldn’t even remember having been on the ground, sprawled, with almost no intention to stand up again. And it’s what he wants. An instant escape. Because if he heals himself slowly as how it normally should be, he won’t survive.

_I’m doing the right thing_, he nods to himself, eyes still locked with Yixing’s expectant ones, _I’m doing the right thing_.

“I,” he murmurs as he turns around, finding the door Yixing had talked about, “I have one memory in mind.”

“Well? What are we waiting for?”

===

Sidetracking. It’s a condition when subject’s consciousness doesn’t follow the machine’s guideline. Instead, it jumps to another memory through another link instead of the one the machine assigned it to. The process amplifies the rate of subject’s brain activity, and it could result in subject waking up, hence cutting the process.

Dr. Doh knows about it like how he knows the back of his hand. He was there when the condition was tested, experimented with. He was one of the first Doctors to have studied it. He’s sufficiently knowledged in it.

But it doesn’t lessen the fact that he’s very anxious about it.

“Patient has been in two sub memories. He’s going for another.”

“What do we do, Doc?”

Because there is not much that he can do, when the patient’s consciousness has gained its own will.

He can’t help his patient forget if the patient suddenly decides they don’t want to.

“We keep him calm first.” Dr. Doh gets off his seat. “Keep him asleep. Then we follow his consciousness and detach the memory he’s in. Hopefully he’ll come across a main memory.”

“Will he be okay, Doc?”

Dr. Doh stares at Jaehyun, who had asked, for a moment. “He will.” he nods. “As long as we’re careful.”

“How about the possibility that some memories might get left behind?”

“In the worst scenario, we can hold additional procedure. It would be a hassle, though. The patient needs to discover the remnants of the said memory, then we can trace it again.”

“I mean,” Sooyoung’s voice softens, “how would the patient be, if it happens?”

The beeping sound of the machine only adds to the grimness of the atmosphere.

“Let’s make sure he’ll stay asleep first.”

Dr. Doh doesn’t answer, for he knows it too well, and he has no courage to say it.

He just hopes Wu Yifan won’t wander too far into his memories, where they can’t find and rescue him.

===

Yifan’s mind takes them to Tokyo.

It was the day after Baekhyun’s concert, which Yixing was a staff in. Yifan used two days of his paid vacation to roam around the streets with Yixing, mostly trying out food and buying small gifts for Zitao and his office mates. Just the two of them, in plaid t-shirt, cotton jackets, jeans and slippers, circling the blocks, talking about the most random things and commenting on anything they laid their eyes on.

“Now, why this memory?” Yixing asks him, making sure his voice is loud enough in the middle of the crowded sidewalk.

Yifan shrugs, a smile hanging on his lips. “I had a great time here. With you.”

It’s night time, yet the streets are still bright, lit by the LED screens attached on buildings and hundreds of streetlamps. Yifan takes a look at Yixing by his side, whose eyes are wandering around to bask in the view. This was how Yixing had looked back then, silent and observing outside yet excited and thrilled inside.

“You were the one who asked me to come here.” he then says. “You said I should take a break because I was starting to look like Frankenstein from all the work.” he pauses when Yixing giggles at the mention of their old conversation. “You even bought the ticket before I said yes.”

“And what about it?”

“Nothing.” Yifan sighs. “I was just very happy because of that. Maybe that’s why I thought of this memory.”

Because back then, this was the moment when Yifan finally realized how much of an importance he had become in Yixing’s life. How much Yixing cared about him. If Yixing was never his lover, then Yixing surely was his best friend. They were the best of friends, the years of their friendship and marriage. They were there for each other whether they needed it or not. This was the moment Yifan had realized about that. The moment he found that he was not in the relationship alone; Yixing was trying to be present as well.

But he doesn’t need to tell this Yixing all of that, because this Yixing already knows it all. This Yixing isn’t going to answer his burning questions. This Yixing is helping him deal with the things he had thought yet denied its logic before. Helping him understand that he had spent too much time looking at the rain that he had forgotten that it was once a clear bright sky, and it was beautiful.

“Besides,” he speaks again, “the lights kinda did something to your face.”

“My face?”

“Yeah.” he nods. “You… glowed.”

Yixing holds back a smile. “And?”

“And it was pretty.”

“The lights?”

“You. The way you glowed. It was pretty. You were pretty.”

Yixing finally lets out a laugh, and Yixing is still so pretty under the LED lights, and Yifan thinks that it’s such a shame if he can’t remember this view anymore once all of his memories of Yixing are erased. Because he’s never getting this view again; this face, this smile, this pair of twinkling eyes, this kind of glow, and this kind of warmth bursting in his chest. And if this memory gets erased, then how would he look back at it again?

He grasps Yixing’s hand, somehow finding a sense of urgency. “Let’s go.”

“Already?” Yixing chirps. “It has to have more fun than this!”

Yifan laughs sheepishly. “I’ll try.”

It’s a bar, back in Seoul, where Yixing used to frequent with his fellow composers. Most of the times, Yixing would make Yifan tag along if he was available. ‘_More friends more problems, and that’s what makes life fun!_’ Yixing would always say whenever Yifan felt like he would only make things awkward between him and his mates. And each time, Yixing would always prove him wrong, because somehow all of Yixing’s friends were so nice and curious of him, erasing his worries and giving him the confidence to talk to them.

‘_We still can’t believe someone could handle a whole Zhang Yixing._’ someone would always say.

But there were a few times when Yixing would go alone, when the stress was consuming him. On the first months of their marriage, Yifan would always worry about him going alone, although he didn’t do anything about it or tell Yixing how he felt. Then one day Yixing invited him to go with him, and somehow the trips to the bar became their thing together.

‘_Because, you know, there are people who would come up to me, and I’d tell them I’m frickin’ married, but they won’t buy it. And I tried to imagine how it would be if you’re the one who goes to bars alone, and I lost it. Everybody would be all over you, and there would be the worst kind of people doing it. And then I finally figured out that you must’ve been worried whenever I was out alone._’

‘_Oh? So you’re taking me just to drive people away?_’

‘_That, and drinking alone is never fun!_’

If Yifan’s not mistaken, this was one of those nights they’d hang out at the bar, just the two of them, fooling around the place.

“One Martini, please. Dry.” Yifan informs the bartender. This would be the first time he interacts with other aspects of his memory. If he goes along with the memory, then it should be fine.

He leans back to take a peek of Yixing, who’s sitting at the other corner of the counter, smirking back at him.

“And one Margarita,” Yifan says, “for that cute guy at the end of the row.”

Not long after, the bartender delivers the drink to Yixing. Back then, as Yixing had told him once they got home, the bartender told Yixing that the drink was from the guy at the other end of the row, and that the guy seemed to be pretty interested in him. And just like now, Yixing had giggled and informed the bartender;

“That’s my husband!”

It was what had made the night beyond delightful to him. The newly found fact of himself. He was someone’s husband. He belonged to someone. He never really realized how Yixing had given him a whole new title, how Yixing’s existence had given his life a brand new meaning. He was someone’s partner for life, someone’s number 1 emergency call, someone’s view first thing in the morning and last before falling asleep. He was Yixing’s husband.

And now, he’s just himself. Just a Wu Yifan.

And he hates being the plain, colorless Wu Yifan.

But he’s the one wiping the pastel colors out of his life.

“Are you seriously thinking inside your thought?” Yixing comes to him, still holding his glass of Margarita.

“Am I doing the right thing?” Yifan looks up at Yixing. “Forgetting you.”

Yixing blinks at him, a little bit stunned, before a sheepish smile spreads on his lips as he shrugs.

“I keep feeling like I’m making a huge mistake.”

“One that you won’t even remember by the end of this, though.” Yixing takes a sip of his drink. “No one would ever bother thinking twice to do anything if there would be no consequences whatsoever.”

“Is there really no consequence waiting for me?”

“Well, well... what do you think it would be? If there’s ever any.”

Yifan eventually thinks of one thing, but he’s ashamed to voice it out.

“Oh,” Yixing tilts his head, “you’re worried about me in the real world.”

“No… not necessarily like that -”

“You’re worried I would be sad knowing I’m completely forgotten, when I was the one who recommended it to you.”

“I -”

“Would I even care?”

Yifan freezes on his seat.

“I made you do this.” the smile is long gone from Yixing’s lips. “You even assumed that I just wanted the easy way to redeem myself. I wouldn’t have to bother feeling guilty and taking the blame if you don’t even remember what I did, right? It would be as if nothing ever happened. Clean record. Yeah?”

The bar is playing some upbeat music, but the volume is not high enough. This isn’t right. It’s a goddamn bar. Why don’t they turn the music on as loud as possible to drown out Yixing’s voice? He doesn’t want to listen to Yixing listing out his ugly thoughts about him.

“Look what I made you do.” Yixing leans in, putting a hand on his shoulder. “All of this, just to forget everything about me.”

“No.” Yifan suddenly says. He doesn’t know where did they strength come from. “No.”

Yixing blinks at him. “No?”

“You didn’t make me do this. I chose to do this. I was the one who asked -” Yifan’s voice gets stuck in his throat for a moment, “I was the one who wanted this. You… you just did what I asked you to.”

_Yifan. Im so sorry. For everything._

_No matter how many times im gonna_

_have to tell u that i wont get tired of_

_it. _ _Im really really sorry. I dont know_

_what else i can do than this. If theres_

_another way to make up for what i_

_did please tell me. Id do anything._

“This is all my own doing. I’m the one who brought myself into this. And you, you just,”

_I really want to forget you. Can you_

_make it possible?_

_You can’t. Don’t bother. Stop._

“you just wanted to make it up to me.”

_I will find the way._

“You just wanted to help me. In any possible way.”

_Delete 3 messages?_

He wonders why his sight starts to get blurry, and it’s only when Yixing brings up a hand to touch his cheek that he realizes he’s crying. No sobs, just tears falling down his face.

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” he asks in a hushed voice. “I’m the one hurting myself. I’ve always been the one hurting myself.”

Yixing doesn’t agree with him, nor does he beg to differ. He just gathers Yifan into his arms, securing him in a gentle yet firm embrace. This Yixing hugs him a lot, now that Yifan notices.

“You’d care.” he speaks again, voice muffled against Yixing’s shoulder. “The Zhang Yixing that I know would care.” He expects Yixing to say anything to him in reply, but he gets Yixing detaching himself from him instead. He looks up at Yixing with concern, seeing the stunned look on Yixing’s face.

“Are you seeing this?” Yixing whispers at him. “All of this?”

Yifan follows Yixing’s hand, gesturing around the place. Now he sees it, and dread starts to fill him; everything around him is starting to fade into white.

“Shit.” Yifan stands up abruptly off the stool. “It’s going to get erased.”

“Detached. Not erased yet.” Yixing turns at him. “Go. I’ll see you in another memory.”

“I -” Yifan shakes his head, “what if they find me there again and detach the memory too? What if I don’t wake up? What if I end up forgetting you anyway?”

Yixing closes his eyes, probably thinking. He opens them again and puts his hands on both of Yifan’s shoulders. “Just go for now, before this gets completely detached.” he then spins Yifan’s body around. “Go now!”

Yifan starts to run, stumbling along his way as he glances back at Yixing. “You sure you’ll be there?”

“Just like before!”

===

“He’s moving again.”

“His consciousness is getting stronger. At this rate, he might wake up.”

Dr. Doh shakes his head slightly. “He won’t. We’ll keep him asleep from here.”

“Doc, what if he’s trying to tell us something?” Sooyoung’s words make him look up from the monitor. “What if he’s trying to tell us to stop?”

“No can’t do,” Jaehyu answers instead, “stopping now means we’re going to pull his consciousness out with his memories scattered around. He’ll have flashes of random memories playing in his head. He won’t survive that.”

“But doesn’t this look like he’s insisting something to us?”

The red dot moves to another white one.

===

There is no Yixing.

It’s just him, back in their condo. Just him, standing in the middle of the room, right between the kitchen and dining area. The room is dimly lit, suggesting that it’s already night. He notices it’s raining outside, as he walks towards the window, where the curtain is slightly drawn apart. Droplets of water are decorating the glass from the outside. This must be some time after Yixing left the house. After _that_ day.

He used to watch the rain with Yixing. Now he’s all alone.

How he wish Yixing is here with him.

“Oh? We’re here again.”

Yifan loses his grip for a second upon hearing Yixing’s voice. He turns around, finding Yixing standing right behind him, in his worn out long sleeved white tee and mint green pajama pants. “How…?”

“Told you, you can do anything here since it’s all in your head.” Yixing grins. “So, why are we back in our house again?”

Something in him breaks. “Our house.” he spells. Right. This condominium, decorated with pastel colors, used to be their house. The place where they were happy, where Yifan was the happiest, where he thought he could provide the same amount of happiness for Yixing.

Yixing makes a bee line to the corner of the dining table, right before the window, and then turns around to face him. “When is this?”

“Uh,” Yifan immediately looks around for something that can tell him the date; he finds his phone on the coffee table, “November sixth… 2019.”

Three months after Yixing left him at the lobby of this building.

Three months before they legally became ex husbands.

“Oh my, Fan,” the sudden excitement in Yixing’s voice catches him, “happy birthday!”

It takes him a moment before he finally understands what Yixing meant. November sixth. It’s his birthday. It was his twenty eighth birthday. “Ah,” he chuckles softly, “thanks.”

“What did you do on this day?” Yixing says as he sits down on a chair near the window, habitually pulling his legs up to rest them on the thinly cushioned surface, arms wrapping his limbs that are now pressed against his chest. It’s the chair he used to sit on whenever he wanted to look at the view outside. “Could you be outside? Seems like you’re not home. But wait… your phone is here, though.”

“I wasn’t out on this day.” Yifan shakes his head.

“Then?”

Yifan points his index finger at the chair Yixing is sitting on. “I sat there the whole night.”

The innocent curiosity on Yixing’s face fades away in a split second, replaced with the icy coldness of realization. “Oh.” he then looks down at the chair, as if it could ease his mind.

Yixing looks so small, curled up on the chair like that. The sight puts a soft, bittersweet smile on Yifan’s lips. He makes his way to the dining table and pulls out another chair, places it next to Yixing, and sits there. Now both of them are enjoying the view outside. Not that there’s much to look at, since it’s raining quite heavily.

“Why did you sit here for the whole night?” Yixing’s delicate voice reminds him that he’s not alone this time.

Shrugging, Yifan he nods towards the window. “Because I wanted to watch the rain.”

“... watch the rain?”

“Until it stopped.”

He can feel Yixing’s curious gaze on him. “Why?”

“Because…” Yifan sighs, leaning his back against the chair, “it’s raining. In November.” he takes a moment to prepare himself, then he turns to his side to look at Yixing, who’s still confused with his words. He gives Yixing a small smile.

“I… I fell for you at these times.”

Yixing’s eyes soften at him. The same smile blooms on his beloved’s lips, as he rests his head on his knees. “You did?” Yixing asks in a hushed yet amused voice.

“Yeah. The first time we fooled around in the rain was in November, remember? Then there was that time after we got married, when we both didn’t have anything else to do, and you dragged me to the park on the second floor to play in the rain.” Yifan tilts his head to match Yixing’s gaze. “Well, technically, I fell for you whenever it rained.”

“You fell for me, whenever it rained.” Yixing repeats. “It’s all in the past now, hm?”

Yifan’s smile dissipates. He cannot visualize it, but he knows Yixing can see the sadness that is taking over on his face. “After you left… I couldn’t look at the rain the same anymore. It made me feel so… so lonely.”

Everything is hushed around them. The dim lights contribute to the somberness of the night. How Yifan wishes he had this chance back then; to sit next to Yixing once again, to look at his face with no thick resentment and pain, to just marvel at how pretty Yixing’s droopy eyes look from this angle. He really, really missed Yixing.

“It must’ve been so hard.” Yixing murmurs. “You must’ve had it really bad.”

Something inside him, some kind of switch, gets set off, making his eyes burn. He can feel his tear ducts starting to do their job. Flashes of memories started to fill his head; it _was_ hard. He nods at Yixing. It was hard, so hard that he had to go through all of this.

“You just wanted it to end, hm? The pain.”

He nods again and again. Tears start to fall down from his eyes.

“That’s why you’re doing this. Erasing me. Everything about me.”

He nods, and nods, like a controlled puppet doll.

“Because if you’re not doing this,” sadness starts to swirl inside Yixing’s eyes, “then you would’ve chosen the instant way.”

This time, he doesn’t nod.

“At some point, you wanted to die. Didn’t you?”

This time, he closes his eyes.

“You thought death would be the easiest way to stop the pain. You’ve thought of it several times, if not many. That was the only way out you could come up with… until Tao told you about Antares Lab and the Memorasure.” Yixing’s voice is still low, hushed, but the pain it inflicts is overwhelming. “You thought about death being the only way. But you never really considered of actually doing it yourself. You never really thought about taking your own life.”

He shakes his head. Lips still sealed tight. His throat is not allowing him to speak.

“You were scared.” Yixing sighs. “You were never brave enough to even think of it. That was probably why you always said you wish I had killed you instead. It was just in your imagination, in your hopes. Why me, though? So I could suffer like you did?”

“I’m sorry.” Yifan finally manages to croak out.

Yixing shakes his head a little. “But there was also something else. It prevented you from actually thinking of ending your own life. It also made you run away twice from Dr. Doh.”

“I’m sorry.” Yifan whispers. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t want to forget me.” Yixing’s gaze on him is warm, meaningful. “For a few times, you wanted to stay in pain than to leave me, to forget me.”

Somehow, there’s a new wave of tears falling down his eyes.

That’s right. He didn’t want to forget Yixing at first; he didn’t want to lose years worth of his days and nights with Yixing. He couldn’t even bring himself to take his own life because he believed that it would at least affect Yixing in a bad way.

“Why? Even after suffering that bad, why did you even think of me first?”

Yifan can’t stop the tears from falling down his face. His nose is almost fully clogged. His face is hurting from holding back the sobs. _I don’t know_, he wants to say, because he truly doesn’t know why even after all of that, Yixing was still the first thing he thought of. But he can only shake his head repeatedly, like a broken doll. Words have lost their meaning on him long ago.

He then feels Yixing wrapping an arm around him, pulling him in so their bodies are flush against each other. “You did well, Fan. Getting through it all.” Yixing says gently close to his ear. “You deserve a break. And you deserve love. God, you do. You were just unlucky that you fell in love with someone who wasn’t capable of loving you back. That’s all.”

“You’ve told me that.”

“And I’d tell you, again and again and again, if I could.” Yixing chuckles softly. “Because you need to always remember how precious you are. You’re worthy of being loved as much as you love, Fan. Someday, I promise you, you’ll meet that person, and you’ll love and be loved so much you won’t be able to think of anything else. You just have to hang in there. Hold on for just a little bit longer. It’d be a shame to leave this world before having the chance to meet that person, right?”

The bitterness in him rises again. “I wanted it to be you.” he croaks out. “Why couldn’t it be you?”

To that, Yixing cracks a laugh. “Yeah, why couldn’t it be me, hm? Would’ve saved us a lot of trouble.”

Somehow, he finds the humor in it.

“This is getting too sad. Why don’t you go to a happy one again?”

Yifan leans back, searching for Yixing’s face. “Me? What about you?”

“I’ll be there again, don’t worry.” Yixing offers a smile. “You do realize you didn’t need to drag me around the memories, right? You only need to break the plot, and the Yixing you meet would be me.”

“I…” Yifan frowns, finding the sense in it.

Yixing giggles amusedly. “But it was fun! Running around and all. It was to excite you so much so you’ll wake up, anyway.”

“So… you’re not coming?”

“I’ll meet you there, Fan.” Yixing gestures at the door. “Go! Before they find you again here.”

Eventually, Yifan stands up from the chair. But he just can’t seem to move his legs and reach the door. “What’s wrong?” Yixing asks him.

“Nothing. I just…” he sighs, “I hate that door.”

Yixing frowns at him before he takes a look at the door as well. “Nah, you don’t hate it.” he smirks. “You just hate the things that happened around it.”

That door had witnessed both of them leaving each other. And Yifan hates that it has seen too much.

“But if you don’t go through that door, you won’t be able to go anywhere. Of course you can stay until it gets erased, but you’re trying to prevent it from happening, right?”

Yifan looks at Yixing. The love of his life, who is now smiling warmly back at him. “The last time I left you through that door, you weren’t smiling like this.” his voice trails off.

“The last time I left you through that door, you looked like a zombie.” Yixing grins. “So we’re even.”

He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. He can’t tell anymore, if this is really just his projection of Yixing, or the one in front of him is Yixing himself. “See you at the other side.” he nods.

Yixing waves at him.

And a moment later, he opens his eyes to Yixing’s voice.

“I mean, I know we’re never home for more than half a day most of the times, and none of us ever had a pet before. But think about it like this; whenever we open the door, we’ll see it running excitedly towards us! Won’t that be amazing?”

They’re in Yixing’s car, on the streets, heading to some place Yifan can’t remember. This Yixing next to him is an original part of this memory, which means they’re still going along with the plot, and they would keep doing it until Yifan breaks the fourth wall.

This conversation was about Yixing wanting to adopt a cat. A local breed, probably a white furred one. And Yixing has been sugar coating his argument as if he was trying to get a board of music composers to choose his song to work on. So adorable to see Yixing trying to persuade him, when he would’ve let him do anything he wanted. However, he’d only allow it if it wouldn’t harm Yixing in any way.

“But Xing,” he plays along with the memory’s plot, “you’re allergic to fur.”

“But it’s not that bad!” Yixing counters immediately. “Besides, I’ll take pills daily. Sprays. Anything.”

“Why do you want to have a cat so much, anyway?”

“Because they’re amazing? The coolest animal of them all. They pretend they don’t need your attention, but the second you turn away they’d immediately snuggle into your arms.” Yixing sighs dreamily. “Besides, it’ll feel like we’re a little family of three, don’t you think so?”

A little family of tree. Funny how months after this event, the idea went to the drain.

But at least, in this moment, they were both hopeful and happy.

Happy.

_Fuck_.

Yifan gives up with the play pretend. “I don’t.” he says, bitterness seeping off of his lips. “I wish I didn’t.”

Yixing now stares back at him with recognition in his eyes. This is the Yixing that had ran with him through his memories, from one door to another. And this Yixing gives him his usual lop-sided smile. “Ouch.”

“What do I do now?” he rests the back of his head against the car seat. “They’re going to erase… detach this memory too.”

“And?”

“And I don’t want it. I don’t want to forget you.”

“Yifan, you walked into the room by yourself. Sure you ran off twice, but you ended up doing it all anyway. What changed your mind?”

“I… I’ve been… thinking.”

“Yes, of course, since you have to actually think for all of this to be able to go on. And?”

Yifan sighs heavily; of course this Yixing executes sarcasm even better than he does, since this Yixing is a part of him. “I can answer it now. Why I didn’t want to forget you. Why I chickened out twice.”

“Which was…?”

“I was happy with you.” Yifan says, this time seriously and yet tenderly. “I was the closest to happiness when I was with you. And it’s not fair for me to erase my happy days with you just because I couldn’t cope with the fact that you were never meant for me.”

Because in the end, everybody longs for reciprocation. He, too, wished that he would be loved as much as he had loved. But again, doom awaits those who love and hope too much. And he can’t even blame the one who had hurt him, because it was his own choice to get hurt. But it all became a pain to him because, after all, it was once happiness. Although not perfectly tied with golden ribbon, not served to him on a gold platter. They weren’t perfect, he and Yixing, but they tried to make everything work. They tried to cherish each other’s existence as much as they could. And he can’t just let those good days go just because of the bad ones.

He sees it all now a little too late, when it’s all slipping off of his hand.

Yixing doesn’t say anything in reply at first, not that Yifan expects any counter from him. He keeps mum for a moment, eyes on the streets, before he speaks again. “How about we try nightmare?”

“Nightmare?”

“To wake you up.”

Yifan now fixes his posture on the car seat, his senses now alert. “How do we do that?”

“Maybe… if you’re dreaming through your happy memories, then you can have a nightmare with a bad one? A very bad one. One that makes you feel troubled, or disturbed. One that you hate the most.”

Somehow, without even thinking thoroughly, Yifan immediately thinks of one particular memory. Bitterness starts to fill his veins. “I know where to go.”

“Which one?”

He heaves slowly, heavily.

“One that made me come to this.”

===

“He’s moving again, Doc. Before we could detach the memory.”

“Good news, is, he’s moving towards one of the large sections.”

Dr. Doh gets to the monitor. “There are only two large sections left. If we can guide him to the last one, then it’ll be good for us.”

“May I suggest something, Doc?” Sooyoung waits until he nods. “I say, we let him do what he wants.”

“... as in…?”

“As in we let him roam around a bit. He must be dealing with something in his mind. We’ve been through this lots of times, haven’t we, Doc?” she gives him an assuring smile. “I believe Mr. Wu just needs this one last chance to solve whatever that has been bothering him.”

“We’ll keep him asleep from here, as what we’ve been doing.” Jaehyun adds in. “We’ll be fine, Doc. You said it yourself.”

He glances at the machine, where Wu Yifan is asleep, mind jumping from one memory to another. “So, we’re helping him?”

“Not really. Just trusting him with whatever he’s doing.”

Something swirls inside his chest. Melancholy, bittersweet feeling, nostalgia, mixed up altogether. This will work. He’s so much more experienced now than he was before. Wu Yifan would be alright.

No one deserves to live their life constantly remembering that they forgot someone they love.

===

Zhang Yixing’s first love was named Kim Junmyeon.

They met in college, through many music festivals where Yixing was the coordinator and Junmyeon was supervising as the Head of Major Student Association. Yixing fell in love with Junmyeon, with everything of Junmyeon. Junmyeon was perfect in everybody’s eyes, but Yixing saw through it. Yixing saw Junmyeon’s tiny flaws, scattered here and there, and he loved it, every single one of it.

There was only one flaw that Yixing hated. And it was Junmyeon’s cowardice.

Were they friends? Sure. Were they more than friends? The things they did, the proximity they shared, all of those clearly indicated that they were. But were they brave enough to make things clear about it?

Junmyeon, with the look in his eyes which Yixing had fallen for, told him that it wouldn’t work for them.

‘_Let’s stay like this, Yixing_.’ ‘_I’m sorry that I don’t feel about you as strong as how you feel about me_.’ ‘_Even if I do, things won’t be easy for us._’

Back then, Yixing blamed himself for keeping his hopes too high and being too blind. And for loving Junmyeon’s flaws, because he still loved Junmyeon even after those words. Instead of saving himself, he chose to be a martyr.

And who was the one Yixing poured all of his rage and sadness on? Yes, Wu Yifan.

Yifan was always the trash bin, the puke bowl. He swallowed in Yixing’s tears, stayed through the hours when Yixing voiced out his hatred of himself for not being good enough to make Junmyeon love him more, all while being in love himself. Ironically, they both were going through the same tragedy, but Yifan got the worse end of it.

How did Yifan handle the problem? What was Yifan’s attempt to save both of them from drowning? By marrying Yixing. By offering his oh so unconditional love for Yixing to consume. By swearing to Yixing he would love him in every second of their life together. And Yixing accepted the offer. What was so hard about accepting someone’s love anyway? Every day, he woke up to the man who cherished him so much. Every night, he had dinner with someone who still looked at him with starry eyes even after years of their relationship, even after months of seeing his true self. It was not a perfect fairy tale, but they were more than satisfied with it.

Or maybe, Yixing wasn’t. Maybe Yixing never felt happy with their marriage, despite those smiles and laughter.

Yifan learnt it the hard way one night.

For the second time, Yixing went missing from him. He tried to contact Yixing in any possible way. Dread filled him gradually every minute, because Yixing has been acting strange for days and wouldn’t tell what happened so wrong, and he was afraid he was starting to lose his husband.

The same night, he picked Yixing up from a club in Itaewon. Drunk, heavily drunk, face flushed red and miserable. On the way home, Yixing kept groaning about him being in pain, and whenever Yifan asked where did it hurt, Yixing would just pat his chest sloppily. Yifan announced that they were heading to the hospital, but Yixing said, slurred yet painful, ‘_if only I have an actual wound they can treat_.’

Yifan brought him home, nonetheless. ‘_Let’s get you clean first_,’ he had said. Despite the disappointment in him, he still prioritized Yixing’s comfort. He laid Yixing down onto the bed, took his shoes and socks off, and wiped the tears that rolled down Yixing’s face. Then he unzipped Yixing’s jeans, gently lowering it down.

He found bruises. On his hip. On the pelvis. On the inner side of his thighs. Down to his knees. Some on his shin. Yifan gulped down the nauseous feeling and lifted up Yixing’s turtleneck sweater.

More bruises on the torso. His chest. His collarbone. Different looking bruises around his neck.

Scratch that. They were hickeys.

Yifan’s mind went haywire. What was that? What were those? What happened to his husband? The thoughts were too loud, Yifan chose to just get Yixing cleaned up first. He put on Yixing’s favorite pair of tee and pajama pants and tucked him in. And then he went to the dining room, sat at the table, and became a statue there for the rest of the night until the morning. He kept thinking, and thinking, and thinking.

_What did you do, Zhang Yixing?_

“You really sat there the whole night waiting for me to wake up?”

Yifan is sitting on the same chair, while Yixing is on the couch, at the same position that he was in on that one dreadful morning. It’s unsettling, how this Yixing looks so calm, unlike the Yixing back there who looked like life was sucked out of him.

‘_Tell me what happened._’ Yifan had demanded once Yixing realized that the atmosphere was beyond bad. Yixing was silent and unsure at first, thus Yifan added, ‘_what did you do?_’, while his eyes bored holes on Yixing’s body. Then Yixing realized what he was talking about, and light left his face.

‘_A few days ago, I met Junmyeon_.’

“You met Junmyeon.” Yifan breathes out. “You met that bastard.”

Yixing chuckles. “Yeah. Pretty stupid of me, hm?”

‘_He called me. Asked me to meet him. It was so sudden, out of the blue. I went to meet him. He was already there at the bar before me. He looked… he was distressed. The marriage, with Yoona, it wasn’t working well for him. He asked me to drink with him. We talked. A lot. And drink a lot as well. I can’t… I can’t remember exactly how, but we ended up in… in a hotel room. That was the night I didn’t come home. I told you I was staying at Chanyeol’s. I… lied to you. I’m so sorry, Yifan -_’

“And you… and you,” Yifan swallows down the familiar nauseousness, “you…”

“I did that.” Yixing nods slowly. “I did that to you. Dammit. I did that.”

‘_We… we slept together. We had sex. Not in the most conventional way. We just… I… maybe he took it all out on me. Maybe I let it out on him instead. I was reminded of why I hated him, his fucking cowardice, and I want to make him feel pain at least for a little bit. We had it rough, to release our anger. It wasn’t… I didn’t enjoy every single bit of it. I felt like an animal. We both were._’

“How did you sit through that?” Yixing shakes his head in pity. “How did you just sit and listen to the horrible thing I told you?”

‘_I’m so sorry, Yifan. I was out of my mind. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I -_’

‘_How could you do this to me?_’

“How did you manage to say all of that?” Yifan counters, voice tired. “You were shaking so hard. I thought you were going to pass out.”

‘_Yifan, I -_’

‘_He’s someone’s husband. You’re my husband. My fucking husband. The fuck were you thinking, Zhang Yixing?!_’

Yixing smiles slightly. “You were also shaking. You almost exploded.”

‘_I know you don’t love me. I know you never loved me. But you didn’t have to do this, Yixing, oh God, you didn’t have to shit on me like this! What - what the fuck did I ever do so wrong to you?!_’

“And then you left the room for a moment. The chair tumbled down.” Yixing points at the chair he’s sitting on. “Then you came back with a medical kit. Seriously, Yifan? You could’ve thrown things around, and that was what came into your mind? Treating my bruises?”

Yifan stands up and makes his way to the couch. Back then, his legs were shaking as he walked towards the kitchen to get the medical kit from the cabinet and then to the couch where the worn out and troubled Yixing was still sitting on. This time, he just takes his steps slowly until he reaches the calm Yixing. And just like before, he kneels down on the carpet, in front of Yixing.

Back then, his hands had trembled as they rummaged through the kit box. He didn’t even know what he was looking for. Then his mind reminded him that ointment for bruises existed and it was on the lower part of the box.

‘_What… what are you doing…_’

‘_The bruises. Let me see them. This… I’ll apply…_’

But Yifan ended up crying, sobbing hard, rocking back and forth, right in front of the person who had hurt him.

‘_Why, Yixing,_’ he managed to say, ‘_why. Why. Why did you. Why._’

“It’s must’ve hurt a lot.” Yifan whispers, tears brimming on the corner of his eyes. “Why did you have to go with him? Idiot.”

He feels Yixing’s hand patting his head. Naturally, he leans in to the touch, and slowly, he leans in and rests his head on Yixing’s laps. “It must’ve hurt like hell for you at that moment.” Yixing says gently. “Why did you even think of treating my bruises? Silly.”

‘_Yifan…_’

‘_How am I supposed to live after this? What if - what if I can’t even look at you? God, Yixing, why did you have to do this to me? I love you. I fucking love you. I’m your husband. Why, Yixing? Why?_’

Maybe, at that moment, Yixing had taken Yifan’s words right into consideration. There was no chance for them to undo what happened, or go on as if they were fine. That was the turning point for them. The culmination of the pseudo happiness they’ve stacked for a year. The grenade went off, and everything was shredded into pieces. Maybe that was what Yixing had weighed up and down about in that exact moment. Or maybe he had been thinking about it ever since he left Junmyeon back in the hotel room. Because when both of their cries had died down, the first thing Yixing suggested, through the remnants of his tears, was;

‘_Let’s get a divorce._’

It was always that easy to end something.

“You were the one who wanted to run away first.” Yifan croaks out.

Yixing’s hand is still caressing his head so gently. “It should’ve been you who left me, not the other way around, hm? It was my fault after all.”

‘_I’ll go with however you want. Divorce me. Please._’

“And you agreed right away.” Yixing hums.

“What else could I have done?” Yifan closes his eyes, basking in the warmth from Yixing’s hand. “You didn’t want to stay anymore.”

‘_I’m the one divorcing you?_’

Yixing’s one single nod had broken his whole world back then.

The disastrous conversation had ended that way, as the words were said in the heat of that moment. But even after three days of Yifan crashing at Zitao’s place and Yixing not showing up to the studio at all, nothing changed. It was final. They were walking away from each other. No second thoughts, no proper reconsideration. They gave up on each other just like that. One drowning in guilt, the other being blinded with rage and heartbreak.

“Maybe you wanted to forget me too.” Yifan rubs the apple of his cheek against the fabric of Yixing’s jeans. “Maybe you immediately suggested a divorce because you couldn’t stand seeing me anymore. Because seeing me killed you each time.”

“We couldn’t stand seeing each other anymore. It killed both of us each time.” he feels Yixing’s hand stop caressing his head. “But could have it been different? You know, if we didn’t give up so easily.”

Could have all been different? If Yixing took his time to make it up to him instead of letting him go immediately. If he decided to be the bigger person and tried to properly understand that Yixing, too, was just like him; a complete fool when it came to love. Would have it all worked out? Would they still be in their ever so fragile marriage, slowly accepting that they both were broken and in pain, taking their time to heal themselves and each other? Or would they still part ways in the end, but in the state where both of them had dealt with the problems, where Yixing had redeemed himself as much as he could and Yifan had overcome the bitterness in him and decided to let Yixing go for the better? Maybe all of that are plausible, possible, if only they hadn't given up on each other so quickly.

It’s strange, complex and unpredictable, how relationships between two people could be. There are so many possibilities, so many alternate outcomes, so many variables that both hold. That’s why when it comes to a separation like this, we would always wonder what could’ve happened if only we had held on tighter. After months, years, long gone was the anger, and only the resentment and regret remain. _What if? What if? Just… what if?_

But no matter how many are the alternate outcomes that could possibly happen, one thing for sure is that he could never turn back time and fix everything. It all has happened. There was only one outcome, and he could never change it.

Which is why he’s doing this. If he can’t change it, he’d rather forget it ever happened. Because he can’t live with the memories anymore. He can’t live with the outcome.

“I think… I think it was on me.” Yifan whispers brokenly. “I was selfish. Wasn’t I?”

“Yifan…”

“I only cared about myself. I didn’t see that you were hurting like me. Maybe even more. Great. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not, Fan.”

“I should’ve hugged you. I should’ve just hugged you instead. _Fuck_. Why did I let you go?”

“Because I asked you to let me go.” Yixing puts a hand on his shoulder, and he finally looks up. “You only did what I asked you. It was I who didn’t want to stay, Yifan.”

_‘Let’s get a divorce._’

‘_I’ll go with however you want._’

‘_Divorce me. Please._’

Even when Yixing was still on the couch, he was already halfway out of the door, out of his life. Who was he, a mere Wu Yifan, to hold the Zhang Yixing back?

“But even so, I should’ve hugged you.”

Yixing, who had looked so little, so lost, on their couch. He should’ve hugged that Yixing. He should’ve put all his anger and disappointment aside, and just gathered the still trembling Yixing into his arms. Because that was what Yixing had needed the most at that moment; the warmth from the person who truly loved him. And Yifan had failed his one job.

“Then hug me now.” Yixing offers him a warm, gentle smile. He watches as Yixing gets off the couch, only to kneel right next to him, making him turn at him completely. “Hug me. This is the last time you’d ever get to do it.”

He looks at Yixing, confused. “Last time?”

“You don’t actually think this all would work, right?” Yixing shakes his head. “Even if you do wake up, most of the memories would already be detached from you, and you won’t be able to remember them the same again. And the abnormality of it all would take a toll on you. You won’t be able to tell which one really happened and which one was created here. You’ll go insane, Fan.”

Yifan feels life seeping out of his body. “Damn it,” he whispers, “so this is what it was all about?”

Something changes in Yixing’s eyes.

“You’re not just my projection of Yixing. You’ve been here all along to help me go through my memories. The more I remember, the easier it is to detach them.”

‘_Even if you can stop the procedure, a big chunk of your memories about me would already be lifted._’

“You said that there was no point in going back. But then you suggested I should go to my happy memories and excite myself so I’d wake up from this dream. But this was never a dream, wasn’t it?” Yifan chuckles bitterly. “This isn’t a dream, and there is no way I can wake up without having to bear the consequences.”

Yixing bites his bottom lip for a moment before he speaks again. “Half right and half wrong. But I’m glad you finally figured it out.”

“Half wrong?”

“This is not a dream indeed. This is something different. Dreaming means it’s your subconsciousness that’s doing the work. But in your case, it’s your consciousness who’s diving into your subconsciousness’s territory. Which is why you’re able to navigate yourself and be aware of what’s actually happening. And true, I lured - _guided_ you through your memories, but it’s not to make the detaching process easier. Your main memories are enough for that.”

“Then why…?”

“Actually, you’ve found the answer, although you kind of got the other conclusion wrong.” Yixing grins. “It was to make you see how happy you were with me. With your Yixing.”

‘_I was the closest to happiness when I was with you._’

“And no, it wasn’t to make you want to bail out of this even more. Sheesh. It was to prepare you to deal with your worst memory about me. Which is,” Yixing’s hand gestures at their surroundings, “this.”

‘_Maybe… if you’re dreaming through your happy memories, then you can have a nightmare with a bad one? A very bad one. One that makes you feel troubled, or disturbed. One that you hate the most._’

Yifan feels like an idiot now. “Nightmare.” he breathes out. “You… wow.”

“And you ate the bait right away.” Yixing chuckles. “But you handled it well. I’m proud of you.”

“That can’t be the reason. There must be something else.”

“Yifan, you ran away from the appointment twice, everytime they explained that you would have to go through your memories of me. You knew you’d have to visit this one, and you didn’t want to. If I didn’t use your logic against you, calling this memory a ‘nightmare’, you wouldn’t have walked here willingly. You’ll get over anxious, and it would alert your senses, your brain activity would spike up. And _that_, would be the point where you jeopardize the Memorasure process.”

This memory, this event, was the one that had messed him up to the point where he could never be fixed again. This was the reason why he chose to erase everything about Zhang Yixing from his head, but this was also the one memory he didn’t want to go through again. Because _fuck, there’s no way in hell I’m torturing myself twice._

But in the end, this was the most important of them all. This was the most crucial one for him to deal with.

“So it was never to wake me up.” Yifan hangs his head low. “It’s to keep me going through all of this safely.”

He hears Yixing sighs. “You need this.” he then feels a hand landing on his shoulder. “You can’t assess this by determining what’s right or wrong. This is what you need to survive. Your heart and soul need this. Your mind needs this.”

Having to forget someone to keep himself sane? What kind of soap opera is this?

“You were hurt, Wu Yifan. No matter what you did because of that, the point is, you were hurt. No matter how you want to justify my actions or yours now, the fact is you were hurt. Accept that. You said it’s not fair for you to erase your happy days with me just because you couldn’t cope with the fact that I was never meant for you, but you also don’t deserve to suffer remembering what I did to you for the rest of your life just because you don’t want to let go of our happy days. Maybe, Fan, you should start to put yourself first now.”

The last sentence knocks the floodgates in his eyes open. It’s amazing how he has so much tears in him. Yifan brings his hand up to wipe his face, but Yixing already beat him to it. If only Yixing had wiped his tears as well back then. If only they had wiped each other’s tears back then instead of being busy running away.

If only he had dealt with his pain without having to erase the memories.

If only he was strong enough to do it.

“Let it go, Yifan.” Yixing spreads his arms. “It’s not about doing what’s right. It’s about doing what you want. What you need. This is your way of getting over your pain, Fan. And it’s okay. You deserve to be okay.

So hug me, and let me go.”

In the end, he really has to let Yixing go, because this was what he chose. What he wished for. This is his way of moving on. He just still can’t believe he’s really going to forget the love of his life.

“I don’t want to forget you.” he pleads as he finally falls into Yixing’s embrace.

“You won’t even remember forgetting me.” Yixing chuckles. “It’s okay, Fan. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

He wraps his arms around Yixing’s torso, holding him tight. Everything is now coming to an end. Seven years ago, when he started to fall in love with Yixing, he never expected to ever letting Yixing go, moreover like this. Two years ago, when he exchanged vows with Yixing, he never expected they’d end this way.

But there is no use in regretting everything. For now, he’ll just regret not hugging Yixing like this back then, before they parted ways.

“You’ll be okay.” Yixing whispers. “You’ll be okay.”

And that’s the saddest part of this.

===

“Doc, we got him. Like, we really got him.”

“We can actually guide him to his last memory now.”

Dr. Doh nods repeatedly as he keeps his eyes on the monitor. “Let’s do it properly.” he says determinedly. “After this, we can wrap up.”

_Thank you for coming back to us, Mr. Wu._

===

It had rained for hours. Eight years ago, in 2012, when Yifan first met Yixing.

When he stepped out of the dorm that morning, he had already noticed the gloomy sky, but his mind had such immense assurance that there would not be any downpour for the day. Thus he just grabbed his bike and rode it to the campus, enjoying the morning breeze. But turned out it rained _hard_.

And just like that morning, here he is, standing under the canopy in front of the entrance door to the campus building. He looks down at the books in his arms, bittersweet smile creeping on his lips. That morning, he didn’t expect to meet someone who would be the only person he’d look at for almost a decade. He longs for that innocence.

Yifan sighs as he looks up at the sky.The rain is blocking the view. Back then, he didn’t know he’d come to love the rain so much. Standing right under the edge of the canopy, he stretches out a hand and lets the droplets of water fall on his palm. The temperature soothes the heat on his skin. He recalls the days when he would fool around with Yixing under the rain; he longs for that happiness and obliviousness as well.

As he lowers his hand, his eyes catch the sight of a big, obnoxiously bright yellow umbrella. A figure followed underneath it, and Yifan couldn’t help but smile, eyes burning a little. Scuffed white Converse sneakers, tattered blue jeans, white tee beneath pink shirt. Here comes the love of his life.

Zhang Yixing halts his steps once he was under the canopy, right next to him. Yifan immediately faces his front again, waiting as Yixing closes his yellow umbrella and holds it like a cane. He glances from time to time, finding Yixing fumbling with his phone, looking like he’s angry texting someone.

After a moment, Yixing groans in distress, and Yifan almost couldn’t hold back his snort.

Another minute passes between them, and true to his estimation, Yixing finally speaks. “Forgot your umbrella?” soft, delicate voice greets him.

Yifan looks around for a moment before he turns to Yixing. “Uh, I didn’t think it would rain today.”

Yixing chuckles. “The monsoon season has started, dude.”

‘_The monsoon season has started, honey._’

Yifan tries to hold back the fresh tears that were threatening to fall. “Oh.”

They fall into silence again, and Yifan lets the moment pass, watching the rainfall. Yixing speaks again. “If you’re going back to the dorms, you can join me.”

Yifan turns at him. “You’re sharing that… with me?”

“If you want.”

Yifan basks in the moment to look at Yixing. At how youthful Yixing is, in his fluffy dark brown hair. At the light in Yixing’s eyes that were still brighter than fire, because it was still years before the eyes started to cry so much.

In real life, it took Yifan a year before he realized he was in love with Yixing, but maybe, he actually had fallen for Yixing at this exact moment, at their first encounter. He just didn’t see it fast enough.

‘_You see, in TV dramas, this is exactly where the lead falls for the second lead._’

“You were right.” he says instead.

Yixing blinks back at him. The lights in his eyes changed. The Yixing that had ran through doors of memories with him is now back. “About what?”

“This might be when I fell for you.”

To that, Yixing throws his head back laughing. “Oh, dude,” he settles down to giggles, “and I warned you, didn’t I?”

‘_Please don’t fall in love with me._’

“Can’t blame me for being stupid.” Yifan shrugs, grinning sheepishly.

“Well, thank you,” Yixing nods, “for being stupid back then.”

Yifan titters at that, before it subsides down, and just in a matter of seconds, he’s a devastated mess again. “I’m not going to miss you, when it all ends.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not going to love the rain anymore.”

“It’s fine.”

“I’m going to live not knowing anything about you.” Yifan shakes his head in distress. “It doesn’t feel right.”

“It would.” Yixing steps forward, closer to him. “When you wake up, it would be just like any other usual day for you.”

Yixing is hugging him again, and Yifan doesn’t waste any second to hug him back. “If I ever meet you again, I want to be able to remember you.”

“Hm? How?”

“Just from something small. Something subtle. And I won’t remember who you are exactly. I’d just feel like you’re someone I’m supposed to know.”

“Aw,” Yixing chuckles, “I’d be honored.”

Yifan buries his face into Yixing’s shoulder. “I love you,” he whispers. He feels Yixing nodding against his collarbone.

The next moment, he feels Yixing pulling him forward, and eventually he meets the water drops, immediately drenching the both of them. Yixing releases him with a boisterous laugh, which he copies in the end. It’s just like old times. Them, together, under the rain.

“Let’s do that thing you always wanted to do.” Yixing shouts at him, trying to defeat the rain’s sound.

“What?”

“This!” Yixing then cups his face with both hands and brings him closer. “This, stupid.”

And then Yixing presses his lips against his own.

He recalls it now. He used to wish, when hopes were still high, that when one day Yixing finally accepts him fully as his lover, the first thing he’d do to officiate it would be kissing Yixing under the rain. It was cheesy, of course. Maybe he was influenced by the romance dramas Yixing made him watch.

So he kisses back, passionately, pouring his heart out. His hand sneaks onto Yixing’s back, securing their position. Who cares if this is just a projection of Yixing from his memory? He would forget everything by the end of this anyway. Yixing giggles along the way, breaking the kiss, only for him to seal it again. This would be the last time he’d ever dream of being this intimate with Yixing, and he’s going to use it very well. This would be the very last time he can love Zhang Yixing.

When they both get down from the high, their lips break the connection, and he rests his forehead against Yixing’s. Now it’s sad, and tragic, but somehow, there’s something beautiful about this. He can’t pinpoint what it is.

Yixing leans up again, planting a soft peck on the corner of his lips.

“Goodbye, Yifan.”

‘_Goodbye, Yifan_.’

The last time Yixing said that, he was on his way out of Yifan’s life. And Yifan couldn’t even bring himself to say goodbye back.

Now, Yifan is getting his proper farewell. He’ll say what he should’ve said back then, instead of keeping his mouth shut because he was hurting severely.

“Goodbye, Zhang Yixing.” he smiles. “I love you. So much.”

And just like before, everything starts to fade into white. Slowly, gradually, floating away.

===

“Thursday, February eighteenth, two thousand and twenty. Client, Mr. Wu Yifan. Procedure, Memorasure. Performing Doctor, Doh Kyungsoo. Ends on 06.11 PM.”

===

“My name is Wu Yifan, and I’m here to go under the Memorasure Procedure, in order to erase my memories of Zhang Yixing.

The… the reason why I chose to do this, is because… I want to live normally.

For the past six months, I’ve been in pain, I could never describe it properly. But if I have to, I’d say it’s like bleeding to death through a raw, stinging wound. The worst part of this is that there is literally nothing to cure the pain, because humans could only cure physical wounds, and mine just happened to be the emotional kind. Two therapists and four divorcees I met before this said the very same thing to me; that’s just how it is. And there is no way I’m going to accept that. I’m dying, and no one is interested enough to save me. Not even I am.

Why Zhang Yixing? Because he was the start of all of this. None of this would’ve happened if only I never met him, never loved him. I met him, then fell in love with him, and in the end, I got hurt by what he did. He was the center of my happy days, now he’s in my biggest, worst nightmare. If I forget everything about him, I won’t have to be reminded of the pain. By forgetting Zhang Yixing, I hope I would forget that I’ve ever went through that... unfortunate event. I hope I’d forget ever loving him. Because none of that would’ve hurt if I hadn’t loved him that much.

And I know it’s my fault. He never loved me. I forced myself to believe that if I loved him just right, just more than enough, then he would. But of course we can never make people feel what we want them to. We… we both fell in love with the wrong person. And we both became idiots because of that. I should’ve understood it better than anyone else ever could. He did… _that_… because he was in love, after all.

I love him. I loved him. I still love him. If not, I wouldn’t be here. And that’s the problem. _My _problem. Loving him has become my doom. If I’m not doing this, I’d still be loving him in the future, and I don’t think I’d survive.

I love him. But apparently not enough to make him see that, see me.

I hope that once I forget him, I’d forget ever being so resentful of myself. I hope I’d forget ever thinking that I’m not able to be loved. I hope I’d forget ever hating myself so much that I couldn’t properly face everyone for months.

I hope I can at least like myself again. Look in the mirror without hating what I see.

I hope I can live normally again.”

* * *


	5. Epilogue; Cumulo

_"On this day, I, Wu Yifan, am going to ask you, Zhang Yixing, a favor instead of giving you a promise. The favor is to let me love you. Let me make you happy, make you smile. Let me ease your pain. Let me put the bandages on your scratches. Let me wipe your tears. Please, let me love you, for as long as possible. And if there is one promise I shall make right now, it would be not to leave your side, no matter how bad things are, even when I'm in pain, even when we both get hurt. I'll always be by your side, ready to catch you, whether you're so tired you can't stand or you just want to be in my arms. Zhang Yixing, let's create a future together, step by step. I hope, fifty years from now, we can look back at our memories that we cherish so much, and be thankful that we've decided to be together like this."_

_"Wu Yifan, I, Zhang Yixing, let you love me in every way you can. I promise you, I'll accept it with open arms and open heart. Thank you for being my strength for the last few years, and thank you for wanting to be my strength for fifty more. I am so, so thankful, for being loved by someone so precious like you. No matter how things turn out to be later, whether our story would end happy or sad, I'll never regret ever meeting you and being with you. You're the greatest blessing the Gods had given to me in this life. I'll forever cherish you, Wu Yifan, my best friend, my lover, my husband as of today. Let's live side by side for a very long time."_

* * *

It rains in the evening.

Maybe Yifan didn’t notice the rather gloomy skies outside the window, or droplets of water on the outer side of the glass. He didn’t have the time to notice everything that happened outside for the whole day due to the amount of tasks he had to deal with; the company launched a new product line last week, and the sales numbers have been skyrocketing, which was a blessing and doom at the same time for all of the departments. Thus, when he finally gets off work by six, he’s perplexed to find that it’s raining heavily outside, and even the tiles of the outer lobby are wet.

And of course he has no umbrella with him.

“Great.” he huffs, feeling helpless. For a moment, he’s worried about having to stay back until the rain subsides because he feels like he needs to walk to the bus stop right then if he doesn’t want to miss the next departure. But then a realization hits him; he’s not rushing to or for anything. He doesn’t have any appointment with anybody tonight. Confused with all the unnecessary fuss he made out of himself, Yifan sighs as he looks up at the sky. Of course it can’t be seen clearly. The rain is blocking the view.

Standing right under the edge of the canopy, he stretches out a hand and lets the droplets of water fall on his palm. The temperature soothes the heat on his skin. If only he’s not in public, wearing one of his sleek looking suits, he would’ve had walked around under the rain and enjoy the sensation of water hitting his body. Might as well get a free shower, and a free ticket to a fever. When did he start loving the rain this much anyway?

As he lowers his hand, his eyes catch the sight of a big, obnoxiously bright yellow umbrella. A figure follows underneath it, and Yifan can’t help but observe because what kind of a person, in their right mind, would walk around with big yellow umbrella? Scuffed black Converse sneakers, tattered blue jeans, white tee beneath black shirt. Yifan frowns at the umbrella again.

The figure halts steps once he’s under the canopy, right next to him. Yifan immediately faces his front again, but from his peripheral vision, he watches as the man closes his yellow umbrella and holds it like a cane. The stranger is noticeably shorter than him, and Yifan can’t see the face underneath the black locks.

Almost a minute passes between them, and out of his expectation, the stranger speaks. “Forgot your umbrella?” soft, delicate voice greets him.

Yifan looks around for a moment to make sure that the stranger is really talking to him. “Uh,” he coughs slightly, “I didn’t know it would rain today.”

The stranger chuckles. “The monsoon season has started…” the voice trails off, “yeah, it was announced recently.”

Glancing awkwardly at the stranger, Yifan wonders what is the stranger trying to achieve by starting a conversation with him. “Oh.”

Another minute passes, still with awkwardness lingering around them. Yifan stares emptily at the rain. Hotpot would be the perfect dinner for tonight. As he imagines the taste of broth and savory meat on his tongue, the notices something from the end of his sight. He looks down; the stranger is holding the umbrella right in front of him.

“Here.” the stranger says.

Yifan blinks. “Sorry...?”

“Use it.” the stranger nudges the umbrella towards him. “You don’t have to wait until the rain stops.”

“Uh,” Yifan takes a step backward and raises a hand, “no, thanks, it’s fine, I’m fine.”

The stranger then looks up at him, and Yifan finally sees the face of the weird man. A beautiful, yet mellow looking face. Something inside his chest tugs.

“I’m not using this umbrella anymore. But it’s still perfectly useful, and it’s a shame to throw it away just like that. Consider yourself to be the lucky one.” the stranger smiles gently at him. “You can throw it away, too, once you’re done with it.”

Yifan looks at the umbrella. It’s big, it’s ugly, but it’s still useful, and he can really use it at the moment. “Then I’ll take it.” he reaches for the umbrella. “But why aren’t you using it anymore? If it’s still working fine.”

The stranger takes a moment to answer him. “I grew tired of bright colors.” he murmurs.

Yifan can’t think of any comment for that statement, but he does think that it’s kind of cruel to let something perfectly fine goes to waste, just because the man didn’t want to look at it anymore.

“Use it well.” the man says as he takes a few steps away from him, waving along the way.

Yifan waves back absentmindedly until he realizes that the stranger is already walking under the rain, starting to get drenched. “Wait!” he shouts, as his hands instinctively open the umbrella and hold it up as he follows the stranger. The weird man turns around, black locks covering almost half of his face. “What are you doing? Where are you going?”

The stranger just stares at him. “Home.” he says, almost inaudible.

“But -” Yifan is at a loss of what to say. He walks towards the stranger to at least shield him from the rain. “You, why are you - let me walk you to the bus stop -”

But the stranger takes a few steps backwards, away from him. Yifan halts on his track, confused, with a gnawing feeling in his chest. Something is wrong with the way the stranger looks at him.

“Don’t.” the stranger shouts at him shakily.

Yifan frowns. “Don’t… what?”

The stranger looks hesitant for a moment. “Don’t fall in love with someone... just because they lend you their umbrella.”

Now Yifan is very confused.

“Don’t fall for someone just because they’re kind to you.” the stranger continues. “Chances are they’ll hurt you in the end. Everything bad starts good. Don’t get fooled.”

In the middle of Yifan’s speechlessness, the stranger takes his leave immediately. Yifan can only watch as the figure gets further and further until it disappears behind the rain. The spontaneous words that sounded all rehearsed are now echoing inside his head.

And he stands there, like a fool, under the rain, with the yellow umbrella.

* * *

_Dear **Mr. Zhang Yixing**,_

_As of February 18th 2020, you’ve been erased from **Mr. Wu Yifan**’s memory._

_On the attachment page after this notice, there should be a list of requirements you are obliged to abide in order to keep the environment around our client conducive._

_In conclusion, you are expected to not cause anything that would disorient and jeopardize our client._

_Thank you for your cooperation._

_For further information, please do not hesitate to contact us on the number and email written below._

_Regards,_

**A n t a r e s I n c .**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> From author:
> 
> When love starts to make you crumble, would you choose happiness over it? Would you rather be happy but not loving, or would you stay in pain for the love?
> 
> The answer is, honestly, up to you.
> 
> Because you’re the only one who knows you the best. You’re the only one who knows what you want and what you need.
> 
> For me, who was hurt by love so terribly, I couldn’t choose yet. But I believe I’m slowly moving towards happiness. I’m slowly trying to let go. I know I’ll never forget, but I’ll try to deal with the fact that I was in pain. That way, I can get to the step of easing the said pain. The more I tell myself I'm alright, the more I deny I was hurt, the more I get stuck on the same spot.
> 
> I’d like to think that Yifan in this story was me who was gifted with Memorasure. This was what I would've been so glad to do if I ever get the chance to erase my memories about that person.
> 
> Most of the times, being loved makes us happy. But happiness isn’t the prize love offers to us. Love doesn’t guarantee happiness, as much as how happiness doesn’t guarantee love. You can have so many people who care for you, have someone who love you so much, and still not be fully happy, still feel empty somewhere inside you. You can make someone happy, so happy they might burst, and they’d still not be in love with you the way you desired it.
> 
> Because happiness is happiness, and love is love.
> 
> And as much as they’re not directly proportional, they’re also two things that everybody deserves to have.
> 
> You, every single one of you, deserves to be happy and loved.
> 
> \- M


End file.
